An Officer, Not A Gentleman
by WeaselNinja1206
Summary: 3 Traitor Captains, Every squad under 100% strength, and Hisagi finds that his rank and his relationships with Isane and Kazeshini are becoming mutually exclusive. As things deteriorate, he realizes: he can't have them both. Slight change in plotline
1. Of Cigars and Blood

Author's note - I am NOT the owner of Bleach; that honor belongs to Kubo-sensei, who's put together an excellent story. This is my castle in his sandbox, because I like to play with the works of others. If at any point it appears I have plagiarized another FF writer's work, mention it - and if it turns out you're right, then I get to apologize.

I always thought Kazeshini would work better as a she, so in this story, that's how it will go. Romance is something I have only ever used as a subplot (I GM for l5r and D&D for my buddies), and I tend to do a slow buildup. That said, things aren't likely to be hot n' steamy; Romances in my mind are more about relationships and the interplay of both parties than sexual tension. Additionally, I love the Isane/Shuuhei pairing, and I feel that a meager contribution to it would be helpful.

This story has not been written to completion, and I am a (relatively)busy man. As I develop the story (I'm saving more for later), I will post what I have. Please be considerate about the spelling/grammar errors; I have no beta. All I CAN promise, is that I will never mistake _cloths_ for _clothes_ - oh, letter e, how we abuse you . . .

That said, if you enjoy, please say so.

-Weasel

**An officer, Not a Gentleman**

Five men in shades sat quietly in the dim, smoke filled room, cards shuffling quietly as they raised, folded, and moved on to the flop. No loud cries, moans, or curses were heard as the bald man took his winnings, the deck passing to the somber blond, who began to shuffle and then deal a new hand. A new round of sake was distributed as blinds were made and the next round began. Minutes later, the grim, scarred man took his winnings as the deck was passed once more, and shuffling commenced. A chime was heard and the men looked to the west wall, waiting. A moment later, a section of the wall moved aside, the soundproofing making a soft scraping noise as the section fell away and Iba entered, his face as intimidating as always behind his black shades. Hefting the cases of sake into the room, he rose from the small space and slid the square shut, enclosing the men in a soundproofed silence once more. The cases were put in the cooler, a seat offered, poker chips placed before his seat, and his cigar lit. The game was placed on hold as the others looked at him expectantly. Iba took a few satisfied puffs before leaning his head back and breathing out above this head.

"Well? What news, Iba?" The lieutenant took another set of puffs on the cigar.

"Who bought the cigars this time?"

"I did, Iba-san."

"Kira, you're a good man, but you don't know good tobacco. Don't buy these again."

"Gomen, Iba-san."

"Now that you've needlessly insulted one of us, how about a bit of news, Testuzaemon?" The 7th division Lieutenant rose from his slouch and placed his arms on the table, giving the other man a look that was hidden behind his glasses as he clenched his cigar carefully between his teeth.

"Fine, Abarai. You're getting the promotion. Word is it's most likely gonna to be the fifth, given that you know Hinamori-san so well." A deep drag followed, smoke billowing out as he talked in a curious display of fortitude. "Kuchiki's gonna be th' one to tell you officially, but he spent a good half hour trying to convince them to delay it. He said yer' too impatient, not experienced enough with yer' Bankai, and that you need at least another twenty years a' tutoring 'fore yer' ready t' be a Captain. T' top it off, he said yer maturity was 'of some concern' an' that he wasn't sure ya wouldn't break the rules on fraternization. The ole man pretty much told him we're down three Captains that need to be replaced and the details cn' be worked out later." Ayasegawa gave muted congratulations to Abarai as Iba helped himself to some sake, taking a large gulp from the bottle itself before pouring it into his cup. No one mentioned Rukia or Byakuya's dig about her; they didn't want Renji worrying that his Captain _knew_.

"Th' meeting was a shitstorm, guys. Every Capn' got chewed out for sumthin'r other, an' most of'm more than once. Soi Fon, Unohana, Komamura, Kyoraku, Hitsugaya, Kenpachi, and Kurotsuchi were all forced to stand in front of the others one at a time an' explain, _in detail_, exactly _why_ their lieutenants haven't achieved Bankai yet. Soi Fon an' Kenpachi basically were excused since their Lieutenants are still learnin' how to really use their shikai, and Kurotsuchi apparently built his daughter to be able to do it, but didn't finish putting part of her soul chain in place, so that's been assigned as his primary task for now. Kira an' Hisagi are gonna get chewed out later for not pushing themselves into it, since they don't have Captains to blame. Hinamori though…." Iba looked between Renji and Kira, and his shoulders betrayed his uneasiness as he took a stiff drink.

"Iba-san, even if she is not your friend, she is at the least your coworker and fellow lieutenant. If you share a fact, there is neither shame nor insult in it." Madarame and Hisagi nodded in agreement with Kira; Renji grunted and refilled both Iba's cup and his own.

"Avoiding an ugly truth simply compounds the ugliness shown when it is finally addressed." Madarame and Abarai spared a grimace at Ayasegawa's flowery platitude. Iba sighed.

"Captain Unohana defended Hinamori-san on the ground that she's still mentally shaken from the betrayal and attempted murder by her former Captain. The ol' man basically said that if she hasn't improved and begun working towards Bankai within a year, or possibly sooner, then…. She'll be removed and a new lieutenant will be put in place." Indignant shouts filled the air as Iba raised his arms in placation. "That's just what he said. None of the Captains looked happy with it, but he was really droppin' the hammer, and there's worse news coming."

"How much worse?"

"You're gonna wanna hurt someone by the end, Shu. We all will."

"Well fuckall, Iba. Get on with it, then." Madarame reached for a new bottle of sake and Renji poured the last of another into Kira's cup – the blond was looking a bit pale, and his hand was starting to shake. Not about to let him shame himself, Renji smacked him on the arm before taking a drink; Kira's hand stilled, and then he drank too.

"Right, well, somebody spilt the beans about you to your Captain, Madarame. He didn't flat out say it, but he volunteered you as a possible candidate if you underwent kido training. You're gonna be sent to kido boot camp within the week, and removed from active duty until you can cast up to level 80 incantations without difficulty."

"Fucking hell! Who the fuck talked? Who, damnit!"

"No one told anyone about your secret Bankai that doesn't exist, Madarame-san." Kira successfully hid a smile behind his sake cup. He looked better now.

"My bet's on yer' Lieutenant, Ikkaku. Kusajishi's twisted like that. Why d'you think my Captain always has some kinda treat to ward her off, eh?"

"Oh, it gets worse. Kyoraku got off the hook because Ise has to be ready to completely master her Bankai on the first try, or it'll kill her, apparently – an' before ya ask, no, they didn't say what it's gonna be or do. In the meantime though, she's gonna be your initial kido tutor, so Kyoraku's gonna be on your back too."

"Whoopdee-fuckin'-doo. A bitch an' an overprotective captain. Sweet."

"Depending on how everything else goes with the progress the rest of us do or don't make, you may be made a Captain, too."

"FUCK!" Madarame grabbed the bottle of sake and took several deep swallows.

"Oh it gets better. Rangiku-san has one year to make substantial progress on her own Bankai with her Captain's help, or, since she's been around a long time and still doesn't have it, she'll be forcefully demoted to 3rd seat and barred from being a Lieutenant for the rest of her service as a shinigami." Loud cries and curses filled the room as they vented their anger at the threat to the busty blond who was friends with everyone worth knowing.

"You mean to tell me the ol' man's gonna shit on all her experience just 'cause her sword's uncooperative?"

"Renji, Hitsugaya ripped into the Captain-Commander on that one, and the commander flexed his reiatsu until Captain Hitsugaya was panting on his hands an' knees. He said a weak lieutenant is preferable to a stagnantly lazy one." Silence filled the room. "Ukitake Taicho got a real dressing down over refusing to promote a lieutenant and was forced to demote Kotetsu and Kotsubaki to _tenth seats _with explicit instructions that they were to be replaced within one week and that they aren't allowed a position above 5th seat until they both have shikai and can go for two months in constant contact without fighting once."

"In other words, never again." Shuuhei didn't like the sound of that, as it made more personal complications for himself. Isane and Kiyone were close – irritably so.

"Yeah." Iba helped himself to more sake and brushed off his ashes into a tray. "Isane-san and I are going to be trained by our Captains to get an idea of how close we are and if it can be done. It's likely that Kuchiki-Taicho will take either Kira or Hisagi under him as an instructor, since he got the credit for Renji's Bankai, and-"

"Like hell he did!"

"-Soi Fon or Ukitake may tutor the odd man out."

"It doesn't really matter, Renji. They want people with Bankai, and they're going to do what they can to increase the number at their disposal, no matter how ugly they have to get in order to do so." Yumichika sipped his sake with a grimace.

"At one point the ol' man basically called us all fodder; said we likely wouldn' survive the battle, so the more of us that get Bankai, the more of the enemy we may kill, and perhaps a few of us might survive 'cause of it." Silence filled the room as the men reflected on the latest bit of news Iba was able to acquire – having one of their own able to sneak in on Captain's meetings unnoticed was very handy, despite the implications it had on the nature of their informant. Kira tossed the deck onto the table, spilling across the remaining chips.

"I think I'm no longer in the mood for cards, everyone. Being considered as a highly disposable military asset doesn't do much for my temperament."

"Me neither. Having to spend time with Ise and nobody to beat the shit out of just completely killed my buzz."

"Eh, look at it this way, Ikkaku. You blow yourself up, you get to visit Isane-san and Unohana Taicho. That's a plus, right? Attractive women leaning over you all the time? You're a tit-man, too, if memory serves."

"You touch her and I'll cut the hand off."

"Hey, last I heard, _Scarface_, she wasn't even talking to you. Besides, it's none of your business where I point my eyes or why!"

"I don't make threats, Madarame. I give warnings. She gets into you? Fine, no harm, no foul. You start anything? I'll know. More importantly, you'll _regret it_."

"While I don't agree with you making threats or issuing warnings, Hisagi-san, why exactly is she so upset with you? The last time she wouldn't speak to you, it was for three months because you had called her sister 'talent-less' and that she was . . . oh, what was it? Something crass . . ."

"He said she was in need of a good humping, and then she'd get along with Kotsubaki a helluva lot better. Why she got her panties in a twist is beyond me – I still think you're right, Hisagi. Those two need to get laid, badly." Ikkaku leaned back into his chair, scratching under his shades. Beside him, Yumichika looked horrified.

"What an ugly thing to say, Shuuhei! How could you?" Hisagi threw his arms wide.

"Oh come on! Look at those two together for five minutes, how they stand, how they act, how they practically have their hands all over each other before the yelling starts, and _tell me_ in all sincerity, that it _isn't_ foreplay! "

Silence followed. Hisagi crossed his arms and sank in his chair, head bowed slightly.

"Besides, it's not my fault I'm not good at being flowery with my words! Maybe if women didn't jump at the chance to take things the wrong way and weren't so damned finicky . . ."

"That still doesn't explain why she isn't talking to you now, however." At this, the 9th division Lieutenant's face reddened and he scratched the back of his head, looking at his suddenly and amazingly interesting feet.

"Well . . . I . . . may have . . . I mean, we were walking together, and she had on that one uniform of hers that's just a little too small on her, and I was talking, and . . . I . . . might of possibly . . . well, I made a comparison I . . . shouldn't have."

"What do you mean? And if you told her something ugly, I'll slap you."

"Well, we were just talking about how I got in trouble for talking about her sister, and . . . then. . ."

"Oh by every god under the sun _please_ tell me you didn't imply that she needed a good humping and then volunteered yourself in the same sentence! DO NOT tell me that! Hisagi, if you did, friend or no, I swear I will jump over this table and throttle you! That's so _ugly!_" Hisagi threw his arms out in a mix of agitation and disbelief.

"I did no such thing! All I said was that we should be thankful we handled ourselves better than her sister and Kotsubaki do and she slapped me and stormed off! She wouldn't even let me apologize later, and I even waited two days to do it!"

"Good, because you were an ass and that makes it a one week penalty! You insensitive ass!"

"Where the hell do you get your rulebook from, queer-bait? I made an honest observation!"

"One that didn't bear repeating! You essentially told her you at odds because of sexual tension as if it were the only problem between the two of you! No wonder she won't talk to you! That one line makes it obvious that you have the emotional intelligence of a five year old! If she's smart, she'll just end things for good and leave it at that!" Ayasegawa ignored the suddenly frantic mood that overcame Renji and Kira who tried to issue subtle warnings as he continued to speak, while Iba shifted to be ready to stop Hisagi from attacking the feathered 5th seat. Ikkaku reached for a new bottle of sake in the dangerous silence that followed – if it spilled in a fight, it would be criminal negligence.

Hisagi rose to his feet and tossed his shades onto the table, scattering chips and cards. His face was completely blank as he looked Ayasegawa in the eye, his voice, low and calm, his eyes sharp and hard. Ikkaku hugged that sake bottle like an infant – though in fairness, it was the expensive shit, and he hadn't had any yet.

"You're right, Ayasegawa. Perfectly right. If she is smart, then she won't have anything more to do with me. I'm a killer in the making, right? The antithesis to a doctor and healer in all respects. Every man in this room is a cold blooded killer. To every one of us, an ability that promises a gruesome death once we reach Bankai; hell, half of us should be assassins for 2nd squad. Maybe that's why she can't help but feel uneasy around me, which would be a valid reason. Maybe the same reason why Hinamori-san was so fixated on Aizen instead of giving Kira a chance back when he wanted her to, or why every date Iba goes on ends in a one-night stand or a bust. We're killers. Unflinching, unhesitant, remorseless killers serving as cannon fodder for a battle we likely won't survive and probably won't influence significantly, which makes us stupid killers on top of it all. Perhaps they all know it, somewhere underneath. If I were a woman with a heart, I wouldn't want to get involved with a casualty in the making either. In fact, from now on, I won't even try – obviously, I, at least, can't do this right." Hisagi made his way to the door and opened it, not looking back over his shoulder. "Sorry about the queer-bait comment." And then he was hunched over and gone, the door sliding back into place with a soft 'thud'.

"Well, that was a sudden turn for the dramatic. I know it was wrong of him to make fun of ya, Yumichika, but did ya really have t' rip into him over Isane? You know she's the only one who can go back and forth with him like that. And it ain't really his fault he's no good with emotions, y'know." Yumichika huffed and straightened the table.

"It is never acceptable to insult someone over their sexuality, religion, or political ideology. He knows better than that."

"Perhaps he would have reacted better if you had tried to make yourself appear objective instead of instantly siding with her, Ayasegawa-san. After all, no one is perfect, and we have no idea exactly _what_ she's done to him the few times she ended up apologizing. Remember a few years ago when all he did was sulk and do paperwork? How he ended up in the 4th for malnutrition? He never told us what she did or said to provoke that reaction, and she seemed guilty over it for months."

"We don't know that was because of Isane-san. It could have easily been because he has as much a problem with hyper-masculinity as Iba-san. Don't take advantage of her gentility, Kira."

"And what pray tell do ya mean by that, Featherface?"

"You smoke your damn cigars, you walk around in shades even in a thunderstorm or at night like a rapist, you only listen to that heavy metal trash that Hisagi likes so much, and your number one reason for dismissing habits or lifestyle choices is 'That ain't manly!' Is it any real wonder why your dates go wrong? I'll grant Hisagi-kun is bad with emotions because he suppresses all of them, but you, dear Iba, seem insistent on removing anything from your person that is remotely feminine. All hard and no soft makes for someone who is decidedly not cuddly, so at best, the ladies think you may be good for a night out and some rough, no strings attached sex, but would they take you home to meet their mother? Never." Yumichika tossed his hair and sipped some sake contentedly as Iba clenched his cigar a little too tightly.

"Still, Yumi, ya' gotta admit that striking him in his only real weak spot like that when he's already down was just as uncalled 'fer as his name callin'." Ikkaku stood and stretched, sake bottled safely tucked into the folds of his obi. "'Sides, he apologized 'fore he left. Sounds like you owe him one too." Kira and Iba began to clean up the chips, sake bottles and ashtrays as Ikkaku moved over to the cooler for the other bottle of the expensive sake, given the spare room in his belt next to the first bottle.

"Perhaps, but he'll have to wait for it. Apologies aren't beautiful, and I've had my share of ugliness for the night."

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Hisagi eyed the twilight warily and let out an aggravated sigh before turning and walking between the trees, ignoring the chill of the wind that taunted his spine. He had been about to lay down for the evening before he found himself here, and when Kazeshini brought him into his mind-scape, it was always with a goal in mind - and usually a fight, before all was said and done. As he made his way to the field ahead and toward the edge of the forest, he decided that whatever the cause for this disturbance, the bitch would find him uncooperative tonight. He reached the edge of the forest and stopped, looking down the hill into the field below.

The encampment looked like an old samurai field camp – bamboo poles holding large square sections of black silk aloft, just above the ground, arrayed in a maze leading to the center of the camp where the general would have been seated. Each sheet bore the symbol of the 9th division in gold at its center; before he had been assigned, they had been blank. All around, suits of armor stood where a sentry would have stood guard. Warily, he made his way into the maze of silk and grass. The angry, whipping nature of the wind, the icy chill, and the way the grass reflected blood in the moonlight, not dew, told him more about her mood than anything else. He was in for a bad time, and once more, he found himself at the mercy of a fickle, vengeful woman. By the gods above, he was cursed; only two important women in his life, both angry at him, and no understanding, affection, or sex to show for it.

It only took him minutes to find his way, given the hours he had spent traversing it while under attack from every direction. As he made his way to the center chamber where the general or Daimyo would have been, he stopped to survey the area.

Kazeshini lounged on a couch in a corner across from the entryway under a sun tent of the same material as the camp walls, despite the complete lack of sunlight; the only illumination was from the moon and the candles placed at even intervals. As always, a second couch sat beside it, almost touching; to date, he had yet to share it with her. Her black, form fitting kimono had always been indecent; stopping at midthigh, only a transparent and thin, black veil hung down to her knees, so as to give her easy mobility in combat – though the calf-high, black leather boots seemed the worst choice of footwear for combat. The chest must have been inspired by Matsumoto, though she had a little less to show off; a deep cut into the breast pulled somewhat closed by a blood red obi. Her sleeves ran down her arms, tattered silk that waved softly in the breeze that was a permanent fixture of his mind. Her blood red mane floated in the wind, wild and untamed, obscuring her porcelain face and cruel, wicked eyes. She was facing away from the entrance, like always; why she encouraged him to always attack from behind, he would never truly understand.

"Perhaps if you truly, sincerely considered what we are, then maybe you wouldn't _wonder_. You'd _understand._" Her voice was soft and harsh, the tone she used most often when dealing with him. She shrugged her shoulders gently, the fabric sliding to reveal a pale shoulder that shone under the moonlight. "Then again, Shuu-kun, you are a little thick headed, so perhaps it will always be beyond you . . . just like your favorite silver-haired _harlot._" He was used to the malice, the hate she used when talking about Isane, and the way it radiated off of her, though the reason was still beyond him. That problem he _had_ spent some time thinking on; as of yet, no progress.

"I have made it very clear that you are not to talk about her like that." He made sure to keep his voice calm and level; he knew a fight was coming, and the longer he remained calm, the more information she would feed him. She, in contrast, stood in a flash, spinning to glare at him from under the bloody mane, voice as soft and deadly as poison. The harshness was gone now; replaced by bitterness, flavored lightly with longing and desperation.

"And why, Shuuhei? Why, hmm? That's what she is to me, you _fool_! Every ounce of your wasted emotion on her is one more ounce not directed at _me._ Oh, you are happy, delighted, even, to hate me and _she _gets all the attention and affection, the sympathy. Tell me, Hisagi, is she there when you fight? Is she there in the middle of your meetings, your pondering, when you are at your highest, your lowest? Is she there when you have to wipe the blood off of me and act like it's nothing to you, that it doesn't make your soul wish it hadn't forgotten how to weep? Is she there when you're lying awake at four in the morning in pain with an erection that could brain someone to death, left to suffer because your damn pride won't let you deal with it yourself? Is she there when one of your soldiers falls, and you realize you could have killed their killer first and saved them had you not been such a _pussy_ and faced what you are, become stronger? Or even used my shikai when you could have?"

"Well, Shuuhei? If memory serves me right, the lanky bitch is only interested in you when _she_ needs you, your needs be damned. Oh, she'll patch you up – after someone else has done most of the work, cop a feel if you're under and won't know to complain about a double standard, let you spend money on her with careless abandon, but does she let you get close? Hell, does she even put out? No. Not even a hand-job for your efforts, Shuuhei. She _uses you_, uses you so readily, so easily, so damn _blatantly_ it's disgusting! And here I sit and have to watch it all, and do nothing. You have no idea how close I've come to just materializing and cutting the bitch in the infirmary, Shu." Hisagi stood stock still, his arms folded, waiting for her to lose some steam, eyes cold and hard as he watched her pace. She stopped behind him, draping her arms over his shoulders and arms, her voice softer, gentler in his ear as her body pressed against his back, cold and breezy as though she didn't stop the wind, sharpened by the sticky sensation of blood seeping through his uniform. Her voice turned plaintive, sad even, as though she would cry, but didn't know how.

"We are bound together, Shuuhei-kun. I will die without you and you without me. We have been together since you first opened your eyes and breathed in reiatsu, though you couldn't hear me. I may as well be your wife, Shuuhei, given how much you need, depend on, under appreciate, mistreat, and ignore me. I was willing to overlook Kanisawa; I was developing too, so you aren't so much at fault for that. I know your dense, manly-thick skull can't wrap around it, and so I'll be merciful and explain things rationally like you so often bemoan we women won't. You cheat on me, Shuuhei. You cheat on me every time you offer a bit of your heart to her; that she always throws it back in your face doesn't matter. I had you first, and you've been nothing but cruel, hateful, neglectful, and spiteful to me. You are unfaithful to me every time you look at her with longing, every time you think of her and lament her absence, every time you kiss her filthy, lying lips." At this, her slender fingers gripped his chin forcefully, turning his head so he could stare at her blank, white eyes. She gently moved a thumb over his lip, and remembering what happened when he shrugged it off or bit at it in the past, he decided to remain still this time. The thumb kept moving while she talked, and it tickled as the blood smeared. Thankfully, the anger made it tolerable.

"I am a part of you, Shuuhei. You look at me and only see a lust for death, destruction, the compulsion to take a living being and rob them of life; a murderess, and assassin. That's you too, Shu. All of it is a part of you. You are a soldier, yes, and they kill, yes, but you are familiar with brutality, close to it; it is a part of you, just like your friend Kira. But you deny that part of you, hate yourself for it, and thereby, hate me, keep me distant. And so long as you keep me out, so long as you hurt me like that, so long as you betray me time and time and time again with that ungrateful, unappreciative, duplicitous, useless, selfish, gangly whore, I will hate her. I promise you Shuuhei, if you lose control of me for just a second, just one around her, and you haven't made peace with me, I _will_ kill her. I _will_ strike her dead with gleeful abandon, even if you are executed because of it, because I will have you more in death than I ever have in life, and I _despise her_ for stealing from me. You wish to remain the 9th Division Lieutenant? You need Bankai? Lose the broad, and then we'll talk." He turned to lash out at her, to hit her, for threatening Isane like that, but she was gone, drops of blood staining his arms where her fingers had touched, blood soaking through the back of his shirt where she had lain against him.

"You touch a hair on her head and I'll resign my position and never use you again, you psychopath! Do you hear me? I'll cut you off, never to hear me ever again until you die, never knowing what killed us!" He waited, and felt the wind pick up, but he didn't hear the telltale chime her blades made as they flew. Her voice flitted in his ear, soft, emotionless, but her body did not form.

"You forget I'm a woman, Shuu, and hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn. Just for that last threat, I think I may terrorize Itegumo for a while, since you seem so dead set on your favoritism. I think you should reflect on what you've learned tonight, Shuuhei. If Iba's news is right, you're about to be forced to go for Bankai, and I have a _list_ of demands to be met before I'll even let you _try_."

Before he could respond, he awoke in his bed, furious. His rage increased when he sat up and realized, just as every time she summoned him, he had awoken to the real world, covered and soaked in blood. To make things worse, his bed sheets and the tatami mats were soaked and ruined, too. Cursing, he went about throwing them out before heading to his shower, ignoring the laughter on the winds in his head.

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I can has reviews? It maeks teh lolcats smile!


	2. Introspective plots

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Kira made his way out of the Kuchiki grounds carefully, once more marveling at the Women's Association for building so many secret rooms inside Kuchiki manor. The room the men used had been abandoned because Byakuya had sealed it off, and the women hadn't used it because it smelled like alcohol, so with a bit of soundproofing and some kido to provide a warning of incoming, it had become an excellent place for them to meet in secret, without the threat of Kurotsuchi or the 2nd squad eavesdropping on them, or the women's association kicking them out for storage. Once he was on the street, he made his way slowly to the 3rd division compound and his room, taking the time to admire the moon and the cool night air, along with the quiet of the deserted streets.

_You are troubled._ Kira slowed his pace slightly.

_**Wabisuke?**_

_Your soul is troubled, Izuru. Why?_

_**Significant changes are coming to Seireitei, Wabisuke. I will be forced to change along with everyone else.**_

_I fail to see the problem. Change is necessary. If we are stagnant, then we do not learn, do not grow. If we do not grow, we do not become stronger. If we do not become stronger, we die, and the wicked flourish._

_**The changes will mean I have to strive for Bankai.**_

_Are you ready?_

_**No. Not in the least.**_

_You are correct. What are your options, then?_

_**Die, first. Change in order to change, second. Remain stagnant, shame my family, and be demoted, third.**_

_If you know what you must do, then where is the problem?_

_**It is one thing to know I need to change. It is another to know **__**what**__** to change.**_

_You doubt yourself?_

_**I can't very well work on whatever I need to work on if I cannot identify the weakness in the first place.**_

_Do you have an idea?_

_**No.**_

_Think harder. What has prevented you from achieving Bankai?_

_**You told me I am not ready.**_

_Why?_

_**You . . . you did not say, Wabisuke.**_

_Wrong._

_**What?**_

_You are wrong. I told you why, and you did not listen._ Kira stopped in the street, took a deep breath and looked to the moon for a moment. For several long minutes, his mind was silent. Finally, he began to move again.

'_**Why one acts is just as significant as why one does not.'**_

_Correct._

_**So you suggest I examine why I do or do not act to find my weakness.**_

_I would start with your actions right after Ichimaru left with Aizen and Kaname. You were as emotional as you ever become, and emotions cloud one's vision._ Kira found himself in front of the 3rd division gates, locked tight, the division number proudly burned into the wood. He stood there for a long while, the sentries recognizing their Lieutenant, and noticing him in one of his moods, merely opening a door in the gate and leaving him alone. After a long while, he entered, thanked the guards, and made his way to his suite.

Once inside, he changed into his nightclothes, cut up several slices of cantaloupe, and went out into his small but _very_ private garden. Looking around, he found Goju hiding behind some flowers at the edge of the modest pond. Greeting the little turtle with a gentle caress to its leathery head, he placed the slices in front of him and sat down, content to watch the little creature eat. He took particular joy in how it would look at him every so often between bites, as if to convey his appreciation. Izuru took a deep breath, closing his eyes and enjoying the sound of the birds in the bushes lining the garden.

_**It is my doubt I must cast aside.**_

_Correct. Asking Soi Fon-Taicho for a crash course in close combat technique or tips for shunpo would be wise. You know how to use me and know your kido. Doing such will make you a strong candidate for captaincy, should you acquire Bankai afterward. Assuming you can cast off your doubt, of course._

_**You do not think I can do so?**_

_Name one time where you have taken a situation that would allow you to make a decision on your own - where success and failure were indistinguishable- and made a choice, rather than looking to your superior. Name one time when you fought to the best of your ability and knew you would likely fail. Name one time where you stood your ground and fought instead of running in the face of defeat._

_**Fighting a losing battle is stupidity of the highest order. You taught me that yourself!**_

_And it is. But how else will you truly know your limits? How else will you have a firm understanding of what you can and cannot handle? If you are to learn, you must find and fight a losing battle. You do not have to make a habit of it, but you must fight a losing battle to its conclusion._

_**And what exactly will that teach me?**_

_If you go into a fight knowing you cannot win, but determined to exhaust yourself in any case, then, should you survive, you will be able to look back upon it, and not only learn for future battles, but know your own limits intimately. Knowing thyself is the key to casting away doubt._

_**I shall not argue, since you have yet to lead me wrong. Still, are you sure seeking out Soi Fon Taicho is a good idea? The woman is barely polite to me.**_

_She will be harsher than she needs to be because she detests men – especially chauvinists - and weaklings. In her eyes, you are both. She will beat you within an inch of your life, which is just what you need to fully grasp where your limits are. She is also a superb fighter, one who has not let any of her skills atrophy in her tenure as a Captain. She is at an excellent level of conditioning for you to use as a standard with which to compare yourself. _

_**I don't think I like your reasoning, Wabisuke. And I am **__no __**chauvinist!**_

_You do not cry, weep, nor display any emotion. Ever. You do not publicly treat your friends any different from your associates. No one could clearly identify who your closest friends are, if any, save those friends themselves. You appear to be a cold, unflinching automaton of the Gotei. While she is guilty of this in addition to being discourteous and hostile, she is a Captain. You are not._ Izuru found he couldn't argue with that.

_**You fail to make a case why I should ask her to be the one to train with me.**_

_Her strengths are flash steps, and martial combat, as it is what her Zanpakuto is based off of. These are your weaknesses, and she will exploit them ruthlessly. Your only advantages will be fast reflexes, which will keep you alive, and your kido._

_**I know for a fact that there is nothing wrong, questionable, or poor about my flash steps. My grasp of the technique is quite satisfactory.**_ Smugness laced his tone.

_In this war, anything that is not strength is a weakness. You need to improve. You need to spar, and you need a chance to win, but only by the slightest margins. You are trying to drive doubt from your heart. Vicious brutality is the best way to achieve this. In that, she is ideal._ Kira was un-amused at the idea of scheduling his own beating at the hands of the Seireitei's resident man-hater. He rose and brushed the grass from the seat of his pants, and gently placed Goju on his little floating house-raft in the pond, petting him once more before heading inside.

_**Perhaps Kurotsuchi Taicho would be a better option, if we were after cruelty?**_

_We also want to improve. Soi Fon will at the very least ensure you improve your martial skills. Kurotsuchi will simply implant you with something unpleasant before letting his daughter take advantage of you._ Izuru flinched.

_**Point taken.**_

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"I thought I told you to stay out of sight on the nights I went out with the guys."

"You also said I am free to wander whenever you have need of me or I am too restless to be still. You used my shikai for a very long time tonight, Tetsu. You have gotten far better at maintaining your concentration. I am pleased."

"If you start sounding like a woman I'm gonna seal you up faster than one of Hisagi's mood swings." The dark shadow in the closet laughed at this, the sound reminiscent of breaking pavement mixed with the spatter of fresh-spilt blood.

"No, no deep, unsettling emotional revelations from me. Unless you wish to talk about your mother? I'm no shrink, but I can fake sympathy well enough." Iba proceeded to place his dirty uniform in the hamper before stepping into the bathroom and wetting his face. Calmly, he removed a grooming kit from under the sink and began to trim his hair.

"You're a Zanpakuto. You ever talk to Hisagi's?"

"Kazeshini is an angry possessive wench if ever there was one, and one day, she'll either kill Hisagi or Kotetsu or both. She doesn't like to make friends."

"I didn't ask if you were friends. I asked if you ever talked to her." He moved to the other side of his hair. The shadow shrugged and shifted in the closet doorway..

"On occasion, and usually only when she seeks me out to give Itegumo a hard time. The only one she likes to talk to is Wabisuke, and that's probably because the creepy bastard barely talks." Iba's red eyes looked in the mirror towards the shadowy figure half hiding in his closet, ignoring the ridiculousness of his Zanpakuto calling another 'creepy'.

"You mean she even hates Kotetsu's Zanpakuto?" The sound of crackling gravel again; a little less blood. Genuine amusement, then . . .

"You have no idea. At least once a week, she'll have some new plan devised to enrage, embarrass, horrify, offend, or confuse the poor bastard. If he wasn't such a pussy, I'd help out less often or at least pity him. But all the bastard does is threaten to tell his mistress." Iba moved back to his hair.

"That so?"

"Yeah, he can't be told anything without telling his mistress. The general consensus among us is that she hates how much her master likes Kotetsu, so she tries to get Kotetsu to hate Hisagi because of what a mad raving bitch his sword is." Iba logged that particular tidbit under 'Man-law Priority: tell Hisagi next time you see him'.

"Really? In your opinion, how successful is she?" Tetsuzaemon began to trim his moustache.

"Fuck if I know. I don't really care. If we pair up Hisagi's little pissfest tonight with the fact she's not speaking to him, my guess would be . . . sort of? Why she would keep changing her mind about him doesn't make any sense, especially for how long they've been at it. No man or woman fails to know their own mind for _that_ long."

"She's a woman. The minute ya complain they don' make sense, they just say they don't have to."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because they're women, and they said so. And if you say no so, then 'yer a sexist pig."

"Shit would be so much easier if men an' women didn't need t' fuck." Iba laughed.

"Agreed."

"You think yer ready fer Bankai, Tetsuzaemon?" Bored already, the shadow changed topics.

"Eh, I could stand to brush up on my kido a bit first, but yeah, I think I could whup yer ass in an all out brawl again. Why?" Iba cleaned the razor in the sink and returned to his face, steam beginning to obscure the mirror.

"Well, I've warned you. You've managed to keep most people from knowin' what yer shikai is, so most people don't suspect ya, but yer Bankai . . . there ain't no going back once you get it, Testu. And it may prove addictive." Iba's hand slowed slightly before resuming its course across his chin.

"Addictive? I wasn't aware there's any kinda drug aspect to it. How dangerous are we talkin'?"

"Think, Tetsuzaemon. Every time you use me, you can't stand being in direct sunlight for a good 24 hours. Some days you actually hide in your closet to avoid the pain. My Bankai builds on my shikai." Iba paused before moving on to trim his moustache.

"I don't really have a choice, do I? We are what we are, Kage'. We can't stay as we are, and I will die in a gutter homeless before I go back to her place. What else is there?"

"We could always go back and kill her." Iba spun around and threw his shaving can at the shadow, who barely ducked in time.

"I told you before: she may be a rotten, vile, hateful, despicable, evil hag, but she is still my mother. You don't kill your family, no matter how much good it would do." A mild chuckling emanated from the closet.

"You think anyone has made the yakuza connection yet? You know all the shit headed our way if they figure out what you remember. It's against the law, right?" Iba rinsed the blade and applied a copious – and most women would say, excessive – amount of aftershave to his face before rinsing his hands and reaching for a towel.

"Yeah. Luckily for me, I'm boring and unlikable. If people don't want to know you, they won't ask about you." Iba finished replacing his grooming kit to its resting place beneath the sink before moving to the tatami mat, adjusting his fundoshi as he lay down.

"I'm tired, Kage. Return, and be silent."

"Yes, master. Though I must say, you really need to stop sleeping in nothing but your loincloth. It's just asking for trouble." Iba sighed and rolled over.

"Please be silent, Kage. I'm tired."

"As you wish." The shadows seeped into the room until the man was gone and no light was present, as Iba felt his consciousness slip away, a faint red glow emanating from beneath closed lids.

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"Ya think we should talk to Hisagi?" The 3rd and 5th seats of the 11th division made their way down the darkened streets towards their division barracks. Ikkaku had his blade swung over his shoulders to support his arms as they walked, obi weighed down with sake bottles as his companion patted down his kimono to get the smell of cigar smoke out in vain. He made a mental note to buy more cologne later in the week – stupid paycheck intervals!

"He's a grown man, he'll be fine. That is, of course, assuming Kotetsu-Fukutaicho doesn't do anything to exacerbate his mood until it's stable." He looked up at the moon as they continued on, his face pensive. "I think I'll just buy him a bag of that coffee he seems so fond of. That's an acceptable peace offering, yes?" Ikkaku gave his friend a dull glare from the corner of his eye.

"You stomp on his greatest insecurity and only hope for the future, and instead o' apologizin', ya buy him a bag of coffee? I thought _he_ was 'sposed to be the insensitive ass." Yukichika returned the glare, his arms tightening and his hands forming fists at his sides, back suddenly rigid.

"He called me gay." Years of fury underlay the tone.

"You are." The feathered man's face went wide with shock.

"I am no such thing!" He spat back, scandalized, and socking the bald man in the arm. Ikkaku didn't even sway with the impact.

"Yumi, you're 'bout as straight as a circle. You're gay, and that's fine. But ya go an' piss people off, they're gonna slam ya 'fer it."

"You are being incredibly rude right now, Ikkaku. Stop it." The bald man shrugged as they turned the corner.

""M just sayin'-"

"Well don't!"

"Don't say what?" The two straightened as their Lieutenant suddenly appeared before them, Yumichika going rigid.

"Yumi doesn't want me to mention the case of spare feathers he has in his office somewhere. Seems he went an' bought some that smell like candy."_ This is the mildly plausible cover story that saves Yumi some embarrassment and I can still pull out of my ass on the spot._

"Ikkaku!" _Thank you, and dear GOD I hope it works._

"Oh? Well come on cueball, show me! Show me show me show me! I wanna play with them! What kinda flavor do they have?" Bouncing up and down the small but strong girl hopped onto the 3rd seat's head as they continued toward the gates. Ikkaku abruptly dropped his sword to catch one of the sake jars falling from his obi, ignoring the displeased bark coming from Hozukimaru.

"Yachiro-fukutaicho, where is the captain?" Ayasegawa eyed the sake bottles coolly, prepared to intervene if Ikkaku proved to slow, no matter how ugly a sudden, ungraceful contortion may be.

"Oh, he's real, real mad tonight, so he sent me out to play. He had a long meeting that he didn't like. I wouldn't fight him right now, though – he'd probably just kill you instead of enjoy it." The men spared a glance as the young girl jostled about the bald man's shoulders, and decided, unspoken, to say nothing until they were told – and to take the long way back to avoid their Captain's office.

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"Kotetsu-Fukutaicho, I have a question for you." Hisagi remained calm and cool as Ise glared at him from behind her glasses, Matsumoto eyed him curiously, Kurotsuchi stood calmly behind them, and Isane refused to meet his eyes.

"I don't think she feels like talking to you right now, Lieutenant." Damn Ise.

Really, it was his own fault for not being one of the first ones to the meeting room. That admitted, why did Ise always have to shit in his soup? Damn that woman needed a good dicking – he'd have to remember to subtly suggest it to Kyoraku.

_Sexism, Shuuhei? Really? _Kazeshini was unimpressed – though by this point, she shouldn't be; he resorted to it every time Isane gave him the runaround or a fight over something insignificant.

_**She needs to get that stick out of her ass – or at least stop using it to jab me in the eye.**_

"How fortunate, then, that I just have the one question that needs answered." She finally turned to face him, those wide, sad eyes as guarded as ever.

_Let me pluck them out. She's obviously bewitched you with those and a good application of Kido. Or is it her tits? I'll grant her I she has me beat there . . . _

_**Silence!**_

"What is it, Hisagi?" Her voice was calm and quiet, but he detected the sadness in it, along with the hostility radiating from Ise.

"I would like my question to remain between us." The fewer witnesses here, the better – less fuss, less rumor.

"Anything you have to say to her can be said right here, Lieutenant, unless you are implying that we don't have tact?" Dammit all. He knew he could count on Ise to make things difficult. He turned to stare her dead in the eye, and she returned it with all the icy vitriol she was famous for. Isane fought down a wince, but he knew her face well enough to see it. Her eyes kept the sad sense about them, but she did nothing to countermand Ise. He felt Kazeshini try to play in tune to his emotions, make him slip as his anger started to boil under the surface towards Ise.

_Let me kill the bitch, Shu. She's never liked you, never trusted you, insulted you behind your back, and she wanted you imprisoned after Tousen left. Let me make her __**bleed!**_

"Fine." He turned his eyes to Isane, unable to keep the pensive look in his face down. "Is it true Kazeshini has been harassing Itegumo?" Matsumoto and Ise looked shocked - and more dangerously, Kurotsuchi looked curious. But worst was the flash of indignation that returned to sadness and then, the normally rare but frequent anger in her eyes that he seemed unnaturally talented at bringing out. In the back of his mind, he admitted that when she got mad, she went from cute to _hot_ – but that was a thought for another time.

"Yes, Lieutenant, she has, and I would appreciate it if you made efforts to stop it from now on. How you can fail to know that you Zanpakuto is up to is beyond me, so you'll understand my displeasure. If it gets much worse I am afraid I will have to say something to the Captain-Commander." She paused for a moment, her face hiding the anger and a hint of upset. "Oh, and I would also appreciate it if you lost my address in the process."

Inside, he felt his stomach drop while he felt a wave of joy coming from Kazeshini, her victory cry echoing in his ears and left them ringing. He stood stock still, her eyes unreadable and unflinching, the other women watching his reaction. He couldn't stop the sudden, slight twitch and tremble of his left eye, but that was all that escaped him before he got a grip on himself. He took a shallow breath, and nodded; they caught the flinch, but if he stood still a moment longer, Isane would see more than he wanted her to; he had never been able to hide his emotions from her, even if he didn't know what he was feeling himself. Damn woman.

"Understood, Kotetsu-Fukutaicho." With that, he nodded in acknowledgement to Kurotsuchi, Isane, and Rangiku before he turned and unhurriedly left the room without hesitation, stopping at the men's room to wash his face with cold water as Kazeshini crowed in his mind, exultant.

_**Why must you only be happy at my misery?**_ He was alone for now; he could let himself feel the bitterness of his situation, how doomed it was, and how much he hated that fact.

_You have no one else to waste your affection on now, Shu~u-Ku~un!_ Her voice was sickeningly sweet in his mind, and had taken on a seductive tone that made his stomach turn. _Finally, she's had enough! She never told you to lose her address before, now, did she? Guess that means you two are done for good._ Her voice was now disgustingly sympathetic as she cooed to him, her desire resonating in his mind, willing him to stroke her handle. _It'll be okay, Shu-Kun, dear. I'm here, and you don't need anyone else, you never did. I have never used you, if you think about it. She can't use you anymore, you're safe now. I won't let her exploit you again. It has always been her using you as you use me. It is cruel of her and of you, but that's okay, dear, I'll forgive you. After all, you need Bankai anyway, and she was the first thing that had to go. We don't need her, or anyone else._ Rage, white hot and seething washed over him, and as he so often did, he directed it inwards.

_**You did this thinking I would suddenly turn around and appreciate you just because I had no one else? That I would suddenly warm up to you; kiss your ass to get Bankai?**_

_**No**__! I did it because she's killing you, Shuuhei. Bit by bit she's killing you with her on-again, off-again attention and her skittishness and her refusal to __**decide!**__ She wanted you, she didn't want you. On again, off again. She had no right! __**None!**__ Not when she was stealing what is __**MINE!**_ _It is the ultimate insult to steal what another cherishes, and then to throw it away because now that you have it you don't want it anymore._

Her voice became calm, and shockingly soothing, making him wonder just how twisted she really was, to have her emotions fluctuate so rapidly. She sent the urge to him, stronger this time, trying to get him to touch her pommel, her hilt, hold the blade in his hands. He ignored it, focused on her attempt to be rational for a very rare occurrence, despite the subtle urge to simply stroke the saya. _"Besides, Shuuhei, did you not promise, just last night, to cast her aside? You know you're an assassin, Shu-kun; at some level, at least, you've accepted that. You know she could never really love you, and you know your heart has had enough. Be content that she finally made her choice, and that you are free to lick your wounds and heal, instead of letting them fester and rot until you aren't you anymore. Scars are never as ugly as a festering, rotted wound, and you look so __**sexy**_ _with scars . . ._

_**I fail to see why I should be happy that she has cast me aside for good, especially when it is all YOUR doing!**_ He heard her sigh in exasperation.

_Shuuhei, my dear Shuuhei. You are a man, so love is obviously something you are going to need help with. Lesson one: To love another, you must first love yourself. I am a part of you, Shu. _Her voice became quiet, so quiet and soft he had to strain and focus to hear her. _You never told me you loved me, Shuuhei, not once; only that you hated me. Ergo, you do not love yourself, and subsequently, you cannot love another, no matter how hard you try._ He reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight as he felt a headache coming. He hated it when the murderous wench made sense; and because he felt she was right, he couldn't even summon the rage to be mad at her condescension.

_**And you couldn't have told me this during the ten-odd years we did this dance because . . . why?**_ Mirth pulsed from her in a short, sharp wave.

_Would you have listened? Or believed me?_ She had him there. The next question came to him: what now? He sighed, and looked himself in the bathroom mirror – he looked fine, eyes not even damp. Wouldn't do for people to think he was crying; not that it was shameful or anything, just that he couldn't remember ever being able to do so, and he felt no desire to explain that to others. He didn't feel like being called a liar… or heartless, for that matter.

_**What now, then?**_ Her response was hesitant, uneasy; as if she wasn't sure she should be telling him.

_You learn to love yourself, Shu. Then move on from there._

_**I already love myself just fine.**_

_Including me?_

He was silent.

_Exactly._ Her voice was that of one who was deeply wounded, but knew the painful truth, and could accept it. Well, he could be painfully truthful too – though now, he was regretting his penchant for honorable behavior. Raising his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, he saw them blood red with reptilian slits of black. Since she was prone to fucking with him like this, he didn't react, even with the irritation he felt. Initially, it never scared him when she did that, until he realized it was a precursor to one of her 'date nights' with him. After the first trip to Unohana-Taicho's emergency ward, it scared him shitless.

_**I've spent a long time hating you. Fearing you. I don't **__**want**__** to be a murderer, a butcher. I hate killing.**_

_I know. To be fair, Tousen made it worse. We are what we are. You may hate that violence is a part of you, but you have a talent for it, Shuuhei; you could easily be a literal virtuoso in the art of death. Your killing potential is greater than that of Senbonzakura – or it could be, if you developed my abilities and your skill. He knows it, too – he's the reason Kuchiki hates me and by extension, dislikes you._ That was news to him. He would have to remember that for future reference. For the time being, he would have to focus on the immediate issue.

_**How do we fix this? One doesn't just change years of feeling and behavior with a flip of a switch. It isn't like we can simply stop the enmity.**_

_First, I have never hated you. Your love for Kotetsu, your refusal to accept me and yourself, your habit of going over the top to please her and never me, plenty. But never, ever you, Shuuhei. Second: Are you going to stop suddenly feeling things for Kotetsu?_

_**Never.**_ And they were truly fucked if she expected him to; it would mean they'd hit a permanent impasse – and seppuku hurt, as word had it.

_Then what will you do?_

_**Suppress it; ignore it, until I have to think about it consciously to remember it.**_

_Try that with me. Don't focus on how we hurt each other. Focus on how well we fight together, how we compliment one another. From there, perhaps, you can stop fearing me, hating me, and come to love yourself._

_**And by extension, you.**_

_Yes._ He paused, and reflected that this shit was happening far faster than he was comfortable with. Nothing for it, though; still, progress was progress. There was - something to be said for her sudden agreeableness- though it would probably be a while before it stopped creeping him out.

_**How do we start?**_

_You fear my blades, and you almost lose a fight before you turn to my shikai. You're decent with it, competent, but not good. For now, just start every fight with my shikai. Once you get over the fear, the aversion, we can move on to other things. Now shift gear, someone is coming. I promise I won't peek._ He shifted to the urinal and did his business as the door opened and Kira entered, followed by Iba.

"Are you alright, Hisagi-kun?" Iba leaned against a sink at the far end of the room as Kira blocked the closed door and addressed him.

"That was a real shitty thing fer a woman t'do to a body, Shuuhei. Even Kusajishi made fun of her for having to do it with a gang at her back." Shuuhei didn't avert his eyes, restroom conduct firmly entrenched in via man-law.

"It was not my intention to cause a rift among the Lieutenants. I merely needed to use the restroom before the meeting. I suppose I can understand why you got the wrong impression though. Thanks for your consideration." He yawned, years of listening to Isane's medi-babble giving him an excellent fake yawn – and what said lackadaisical better than a yawn?

"It took you ten minutes to go down the hall and use a urinal? I smell a lie, Hisagi-san." Hisagi shrugged and finished, moving to the sink after he flushed.

"Kazeshini had a few comments to make over her latest and greatest victory in her drive to aggravate me."

"Well, 'fer what it's worth, Matsumoto had the grace to look embarrassed and apologetic. Ise is all indignant about it, but refused to explain to Kurotsuchi what just happened." He chuckled. "We left Abarai to explain it to her." That got a laugh out of Hisagi, though he hoped Renji didn't butcher the job and explain things the wrong way; that would just make things worse in the long run.

"How did Kotetsu-Fukutaicho look? Is she alright?" He could practically _hear_ the look they shared.

"Isane-san looked sad, and –"

"She looked like she wanted to cry but knew she wasn't allowed to."

"-And also mildly embarrassed before Kushajishi-Fukutaicho said something. After that, she was terribly embarrassed." Hisagi felt bad about it – Isane was a complete sweetheart, and he didn't like her hurting, even if it was her own doing; god knew she could be a klutz sometimes.

_I thought I told you not to think of her like that!_

_**Oops. My bad.**_

_The correct phrase is 'sorry,' you __**ass**__!_

_**A killer and a jerk I may be, but a liar, I am not.**_

_Bullshit. You lie to yourself every damned day!_

"I see. How much longer before the meeting?"

"Just a few minutes, Hisagi-san." Hisagi dried his hands.

"Then we had best be present, right?" With a grunt, Iba joined him and Kira as they made their way back to the office, talking about what they 'thought' might be the new topic for the sudden meeting. Hisagi pointedly spoke loudly when he began to insist that they wanted to declare some new wartime emergency, while Kira argued politely that it must be to declare a new captain. Iba countered that there were no candidates suitable for such a position, to which Kira countered that Renji had a Bankai. Hisagi called Renji over (rescuing him from a line of interrogation by Lieutenant Kurotsuchi that had him very red faced and nervous looking), and grilled him on his kido abilities, and the four began to argue about Renji's candidacy; two for, two against. They were careful not to look outside the circle, where the ladies were talking together, nor comment on how Omaeda was not present. Looking at the four men, red in the face and gesturing wildly, one would never suspect they all knew what was going on.

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Still don't own Bleach. Still learning how to update.

And cranky as all hell that AEG is making me wait AND drop $60.00 for my 4th Edition L5R RPG Core rulebook. BASTARDS! I WANT IT! WANT WANT WANT!

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Oh yeah, review? Almost 50 hits and only 3 reviews makes me a Saaaaad panda!


	3. Dressing Down

So . . . updates are still going to be few and far between from this point on; my school has apparently found managing a double-major degree audit too complicated for the system to handle. Between that and work, as well as managing my muse, we're looking at a long haul here. Nevertheless, here's a bit of a nip for those few of you who could be called _avid_ readers.

As a reminder, I have no beta and no proofreader other than myself. I know what I mean to convey and what I'm picturing as I write the story. That said, some things that are confusing to my readers may not be readily obvious to me. This is where reviews come in: to voice pros and cons in the writing I'm putting out. They also work wonders for a writer's motivation. (This one DOES address the timeline issue.)

-W

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In mid argument, 1st Division Lieutenant Chojiro entered and summoned them into the room, where the captains all stood at attention before the Captain-Commander. After they took their positions and were greeted with more than the normal amount of stuffiness, Yamamoto got down to business.

"Kira-Fukutaicho, please step forward." Kira did so without a moment's hesitation.

"Sir."

"You have not made any notable progress towards achieving Bankai. While I recognize that your Captain was a traitor, and thereby actively hindered your progress, I would like to know what, if anything, you intend to do about it?"

"Sir, I have concluded that I am in need of improvement. My flash steps are merely satisfactory, and I am quite confident that my martial skills have degraded since my time at the academy."

"I have seen your swordplay, lieutenant. It is acceptable."

"By martial skill, I meant my inability in hand to hand combat, sir." The General leaned upon his cane, his unseeing eyes focused solely on the blond before him.

"If memory serves, you received satisfactory marks in hand to hand when you graduated." Kira looked down, trying not to ponder when the General had time to look at his school records.

"That was some time ago, sir. I have not practiced those skills since."

"And what do you intend to do about this?"

"I need a tutor in hand to hand combat."

"Oh really? And who do you have in mind for such tutoring?"

"I feel that someone from the second division would be ideal if they could spare the man, sir."

"The second division is neither a school nor a babysitting service, Lieutenant."

"Very true, Soi Fon Taicho, but while my skills are rusty, they are too much for the lower ranked members of most divisions." Yamamoto eyed Kira closely.

"Your Zanpakuto is willing to teach you Bankai if you improve these skills?"

"He will be willing to allow me to make the attempt, yes, sir." The old man grunted.

"Very well, Lieutenant, I will consider your request. You may return to your post."

"Sir." With a bow, Kira turned and moved back into place, trying not to look at the angry glare directed his way by the 2nd Division Captain- a difficult task, given that he had to stand straight across from her. Hisagi took a deep breath and steeled himself as the heavy weight of the Captain-Commander's attention slowly turned down the aisle toward his spot, briefly resting on Renji and Iba .

"Kotetsu-Fukutaicho, it has come to our attention that you, also, have not been making any attempt to achieve Bankai. Please step forward and explain yourself."

Shuuhei watched in silence as she stood in the center of the isle, the Captain-Commander bearing down on her ruthlessly, waving away her explanations of overwork from the 11th division and her duties monitoring the city maintenance staff.

_You know, now that she lost, I find it somewhat harder to hate the broad._

_**What do you mean 'lost'? And mind your tongue!**_

_Silly man. You, of course. She cut you loose, and if she ever comes crawling back – which she won't, as she's too proud and that would be the only acceptable way for you to take her back after all she's done – You will look her in her doe-like eyes, ignore those tits of hers, realize that all she does is hurt you, and you will turn her down._

_**So sure of that, are you?**_ Shuuhei was not amused.

_If you are serious about trying to get Bankai, you will mature. If you mature at all, all of you will mature. This means you will be more emotionally sound and you will know better than to give your heart to a woman who will use it like a voodoo doll._ He was still as he watched Isane begin to buckle under the scrutiny of the General. A tightening in his gut compelled him to aid her, though she would refuse any assistance he offered at the moment, given that they were finished now. How to get her help she could use without Kazeshini getting overly territorial . . . ?

.

.

.

Wait.

.

_._

_._

_**Would you peaceably take a message to Itegumo?**_ She was instantly suspicious.

_What do I get in return? _It would appear she still hated the other Zanpakuto, if he had to bribe her after asking her for something. That or she was no longer desperate for his attention. He shoved that second option aside for now- the ramifications for the future were disheartening at best.

"_**I will polish you, and then cut my thumb on you tonight if you do so."**_He ignored the sudden giddy mood that overtook her, and the girlish squeak that escaped her.

_What message?_ He could practically see her hopping up and down in her excitement.

_**One: that **__**I**__**, your wielder, apologize for your terrorizing of him. Two: I bear his mistress no ill will. Three: she could suggest transferring some of the sewer patrol duties to other squads, and allow them to patrol their own sewers. With men available to do the patrols, she is free to practice her Bankai.**_ She was silent for a moment, and he was sure she would refuse. Her voice was perfectly controlled when she responded, setting him on edge.

_Very well, master. You have a deal._ And she was gone from his mind. The Captain-Commander was still grilling Isane, rudely putting her down and questioning her abilities as she tried to make her case while her Captain subtly glared at him from the corner of her eye. Finally, it seemed he was ready to move onto the others, as she was given the chance to make her final argument. There was a pause, as a slight tremor went up her spine – though Shuuhei figured the only reason he could spot it was his own . . . familiarity with it.

Suddenly emboldened, her spine straightened, she raised her head, her fear left her, and her voice gained strength. He ignored the jolt that went through him and nestled somewhere below his waist as she carried herself as she did before her unruly subordinates. Now was not the time to think of how _hot_ she was when she took charge.

"Well, sir, a large portion of my time is taken up not by paperwork or doctoring, but by overseeing the patrols that have to go through the entirety of the Seireitei sewers, which are substantial. If some of the other squads could patrol the sewers beneath their own divisions, then I would have a substantial amount of time to work on my Bankai."

"Additionally, it would help increase familiarity with the sewers among the other squads, making it more difficult for ryoka or other enemies to enter the Seireitei from underneath us." A murmur of appreciation went through the captains at the idea, and the old man leaned back in his chair, and was silent for a few minutes as he appraised her with closed eyes.

"I am beginning to see why you captain values your insight so, Kotetsu-Fukutaicho. I will consider your suggestion. You may return to your post." With a relieved bow, she took her place behind her captain. There was no pause before the chopping block claimed its next victim.

"Iba-Fukutaicho, please step forward." Iba made his way to the end of the line and stood before the Captain-Commander, his posture and form perfect. He was, Shuuhei reflected, the most obedient of the group; he was not well known by most since he did his job and had little free time, and didn't ever really use his shikai to settle things. Mostly, as Shuuhei thought about it, because he didn't need to.

_He is as dangerous as you, Shuuhei. Arguably more so, though that's really not fair, comparing the wind to the shadows. Neither one can hurt the other. If you two teamed up, though, the results would be . . . so . . . beautiful._

_**So his is a vicious killer too? You two must get along swimmingly.**_

_Kagekoroyoshiya is a nasty mother of a Zanpakuto. It means 'Shadowy Hitman', what kind of weapon do you think it is? You think __**I'm **__bad? I never truly tried to kill you until you started treating me like an unappreciated burden. Him? He will kill anyone without a second thought, his master included. It's why Iba is always able to do whatever needs doing – if he fails, his sword will kill him. He's tried too, since day one, to hear him tell of it._ She paused, thinking. _How bad is it that he's proud of it?_

"Iba-Fukutaicho, have you been making any effort to achieve Bankai?"

"Slight effort sir, yes."

"Explain."

"Sir, I have been attempting meditation. My Zanpakuto refuses to work further towards Bankai until I am able to enter a clear state of mind, so learning to successfully meditate is the first step."

"Have you had any assistance in this?"

"I have mentioned my attempts to no one, sir. This is the first I have spoken of it to anyone."

"I see. If someone provided assistance in your efforts?"

"Then I would be much closer to Bankai, sir. I am guaranteed difficulty in subduing my blade, but he has sworn to me that he will not allow me to try it until I have a chance to succeed." The Captain-Commander was silent for a time.

"Kuchiki-Taicho."

"Sir."

"Would you be willing to assist Iba-Fukutaicho in developing his meditation skills?"

"If he is willing to obey my instructions and his Captain does not wish to do it, then I will accept the task for the betterment of the 13 Court Guard Squads."

_What a stuck up ass. I'm so glad I didn't get saddled with him. The man __**never**__ cuts loose._

_**And I do?**_

_If you want Bankai, you will __**have**__ to._ She sounded excited, anticipatory.

_**Shit.**_

_I know! Isn't that __**wonderful**__, Shu~Ku~n?_

"I am not practiced in the art of meditation. I would be very grateful if Captain Kuchiki had the time and inclination to assist my Lieutenant in this matter." Shuuhei wondered if Captain Komamura had ever been caught _not_ paying attention to what was being discussed. The implications for his talks with Iba were unsettling.

"Then I will assist Lieutenant Iba to better clear his mind." The prick hadn't looked at Iba once during the entire conversation.

"Thank you very much, Captain Kuchiki!" Iba turned and gave the proper bow and show of respect to the 6th Division Captain. Shuuhei felt it wasted on the man, and was disturbed to sense that Kazeshini agreed.

"If that is all that is needed, then you may return to your post, Iba-Fukutaicho."

"Yes, Sir!" Proudly, Iba nearly strutted back to his spot in the line. The Captain-Commander's gaze fell upon Renji, uncomfortable for being skipped thus far, and trying to act as though he felt ashamed at being skipped, but unsure why. Shuuhei felt he was doing a good job of hiding his knowledge that he would be made a Captain soon; though it was quite possible he _did_ feel anxious, given that his own Captain had campaigned against his promotion.

So slowly it was nearly torturous, those slit, all-knowing, dangerous eyes settled on him, going to his scars and tattoos first, like always, before setting on his own eyes.

_What will you tell them?_

_**As little of the truth as I can get away with.**_

"Hisagi-Fukutaicho, please step forward." With calm, military precision, Hisagi stepped forward and made a sharp turn, walking down the aisle to stop before the Captain-Commander, who eyed him carefully. He never took his eyes off the man before him as he walked to what would make or break his career, kept his form as perfect as possible, his eyes hard and clear. For more than a minute, the general simply stared at him, weighing his worth like the dangerous sack of meat he was. Kazeshini was about to add her two cents on his 'meat', when the General finally spoke.

"You do not have Bankai." So it was the hard-ass approach. How wonderful.

"No, sir."

"You have not been trying in the least." Well, thanks for the vote of confidence!

"No, sir."

"You rarely, if ever, use your shikai. Less than Iba-Fukutaicho, even, and often only when the fight is nearly lost." The subtle tone of disapproval spoke volumes. The old man could suck it, as far as he was concerned. He ignored the inquisitive spike that Kazeshini sent through him at his choice of words - stupid sword.

"Correct, sir."

"Explain." Why the fuck was everyone so mean to him? Was he really _that_ dislikeable? Honestly? Gods be _damned_!

_I could answer that, if you like._ Her chipper attitude was not helping.

"Before I do sir, I would like to request that the majority of my report remain classified."

"That will be at my discretion. Explain, Lieutenant."

_**FUCK!**_ This was going to suck balls, and _how_.

_Maybe if you hadn't treated me so bad I would offer to attack him for you. Too bad, ne?_

_**Petulance doesn't suit you, despite your familiarity with it.**_

"Yes sir. I can use my shikai, but my Zanpakuto is largely uncooperative. At least once per month, she tries to kill me in my sleep,-"

_Damnit all! I __**knew**__ I forgot something! Guess that's a free pass for you, Shu~kun. If I'm being polished tonight, it wouldn't do to go and get myself dirtied up right afterwards. _ He ignored the several gasps behind him, or the bark of laughter from Zaraki.

"She tends to harass every other Zanpakuto she encounters with few exceptions, she argues with me at every opportunity, compels me to acts of wanton violence, and refuses to cooperate on achieving Bankai until I have cut off a number of my professional and personal correspondences." Silence met the statement and he stared unflinchingly ahead, glad he was able to report calmly and emotionlessly the situation at hand. The general sat before him, unmoving. Behind him, he tried to ignore the feel of a soft set of eyes on his back, or the horror he knew he would find there.

"Your blade repeatedly tries to kill you? Why was the 4th division unaware of this?"

"Sir, for several years I would frequently be brought to Captain Unohana for emergency treatment whenever my former captain found me under attack. As time passed, my skill increased enough such that I am able to fend off almost all of her assassination attempts."

"And those you are not?"

"She has not landed a mortal wound on me in more than five years, sir."

_Don't you just love tradition, Shu~kun?_

_**Please be silent, Kazeshini. Distraction here could be fatal to us both.**_

"Why would your Zanpakuto try to kill you? If you die, she will die." Count on Captain Komamura to ask the uncomfortably insightful question. The General looked back at him, nodding.

"I will allow Captain Komamura's inquiry." _**Shit.**_

"My Zanpakuto is a murderess, Sir. She exists to end lives, has a compulsion for it. The longer I go without engaging in violence of some kind, the more satisfied she becomes with my own blood. Our philosophies and world views are diametrically opposed, and this escalates the severity of the problem."

"And this is why she tries to end her own existence? Because you do not kill often?"

"Yes, sir."

"What are you specifically trying to avoid telling me, Lieutenant? By this I of course mean the comment regarding your dealings with others." He sighed.

_Gotcha, Shu~kun. _The giggling in his head wasn't helping; he bit back a growl and screwed up his courage. Time for giving out uncomfortable information that he really wished he didn't have to share. Why did he want to keep his job again . . .?

"She is a _jealous_ murderess, sir. Every relationship I have, be it with a friend or colleague, is influenced in some way by her. Some people she likes, and are easier to be around, as they pacify her and lessen her bloodlust. Others antagonize her to the point where the effort I have to make to keep her from materializing and attacking them leaves me fatigued and with a splitting headache from all her screaming." Murmurs – and at least one shocked but hushed gasp- filled the chamber but he forced himself to look forward, at the Captain-Commander, who seemed to be regarding him curiously. The old man's bones creaked as he leaned back in his chair.

"You have quite the Zanpakuto, Hisagi-Fukutaicho."

"She's a violent, brutal and remorseless killer, sir."

_You know just the thing to say to leave me all a flutter, Shu darling!_

_**Not now, woman! I will punt you!**_ And indeed, he had – on more than one occasion.

"So your reason for failing to acquire your Bankai is that you are at constant risk for losing control of your Zanpakuto?"

"No, sir. I can control her; it is merely the amount of hassle she decides to give me at any given time that is the real issue." The General leaned forward once again, actually interested in the topic.

"How does this affect you in combat?"

"I am reluctant to let her loose in training, because, until I achieve Bankai, I will not be able to predict her movements myself, and she strikes to kill, sir. _Always._ As a result, the only opportunities I have to use her properly are the few times I am in actual combat against enemies I am obligated to kill. Additionally, there have been two instances where her bloodlust was significant enough to make her a danger to me and my squad, and I was forced to seal her and continue the fight without her."

"This is why your Shunpo, Kido, and martial skills are superb?"

"I would not say my martial abilities are better than anyone in second division or perhaps anyone here, but I have had more practice with them than others, yes, sir."

"What is the trigger that made her a danger to you and your men, Lieutenant?" Oh sweet merciful gods above, could he just let it rest? DAMN! Why wasn't he better at lying, or watching what he said? Damnit all!

"We are in disharmony, sir. As a result, every time she gets a little bloodshed, she goes blood-drunk."

"You are avoiding the question. I warn you not to sidestep it again, Hisagi-Fukutaicho. What is this trigger that made her a threat to you and your men?" Shuuhei was silent for a moment, staring at the Captain-Commander, his feet, and back again. He seriously contemplated telling the General to shove his Inquisitorial witch hunt and march himself up to the Hōgyoku just to spit in their eye when they demanded to know all his secrets before they offed him.

Bastards! He didn't WANT to think about this shit, and they expected him to just _spill it?_ He felt the rage begin to rise again, and this time, he welcomed the flood of energy that poured through his veins, the teeming energy that he could use to -

_Remember all the times you wished Isane would understand you? A one-word answer would cause so many revelations her head would spin off. Plus, you won't ever have to explain it to her- just tell the nice old man what he wants to know, dear. You haven't had to look her in the eye since the meeting started, and you can get out of it all the same. Just let it out, Shu~kun._ Her words took the venom out of him, and his rage left him.

Hisagi took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then shamed himself before the most powerful people in the Gotei 13. That Kazeshini made herself helpful for once would be something to ponder later.

"Women, sir." Zaraki broke out in roars of laughter behind him while the Captain-Commander leveled his glare at the 11th division Captain. From the corner of his eye, he could _feel_ the sudden killing intent that crossed Soi Fon Taicho's face.

"That's rich! Hey, Hisagi! You ever get demoted, come back to the 11th, I'll make you my 4th seat! Your sword kicks ass!"

_I knew that man had a good sense of taste hidden under all that bloodlust and bad hair._

"Be silent, Zaraki! Elaborate, Lieutenant." Aw, _piss_! Here we go . . .

"Sir. When she's blood drunk, if she decides she doesn't like the way a woman looks or fights, she gets particularly hostile. Additionally, some women aggravate her more than others do. To be blunt, the only ones I can be near without having to fight her in my own head are Soi Fon-Taicho and Matsumoto-Fukutaicho, because she respects Soi Fon Taicho and Matsumoto-san amuses her." To the side, he swore he saw Soi Fon grin before his ears registered the self-satisfied 'hmph' from somewhere behind him.

"Hostile?"

"She goes wild and tries to kill anything that moves. Hollows, humans, my men, wild beasts, myself – if it breathes and has blood that can be spilled, she will try to kill it." Silence filled the chamber once more as the Captain-General eyed him from his seat. After a minute or two of silence, he spoke slowly.

"How long has she been doing these monthly assassination attempts, Lieutenant?"

"Since my first week after graduating from the academy, sir."

"You have been a Shinigami for some time, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir."

"That's a significant number of years having to sleep with one eye open all the time."

"I am a big fan of coffee, sir." He heard Kira and Iba stifle a laugh, and one escaped Matsumoto and Abarai.

"What steps are you taking to address your situation?"

"I made a deal to secure cooperation with her earlier today, sir. So long as I honor my part of the agreement, she will honor hers."

"For example?"

"For starters, I am cutting off my personal relationships and limiting my professional ones. This seems like it will help significantly. Any spare time will be spent working with her, until she is ready to train me to achieve Bankai. I have already resigned from my position as editor in chief of the Seireitei Times, as well as my membership in the Shinigami Men's Association."

"Hisagi-kun, please reconsider!" The shock and dismay in Ukitake Taicho's voice was nearly enough to make him turn around – but if he did that, even from the corner of his eye, his vision would be drawn to her, just like always. No, that wouldn't do at all; weakness had no place here. Man up, Shuuhei.

"Sorry, Ukitake Taicho. It has to be done."

"Has she given you a timetable?"

_If he kicks Kotetsu out of the 13 Court Guard squads, I'll start with you tonight._

"No, sir."

_Oh, come on, that was kinda funny! Though I'd settle for breast-reduction surgery . . . stupid silver-haired skank . . . stupid double -_

"What else is necessary for your advancement? Is it workable, or is it sometime in the distant future?"

"My biggest issue is that she always aims to kill. There are no minor injuries when wounded by my Kazeshini since she is literally shaped to reap the lives of the living. I cannot train with her without killing anyone, unless I were placed against someone skilled enough to safely avoid deadly injury. The only attempt I made to train with her involved Kira-san, and he was in the 4th division's critical ward for a week. I haven't used her in training since."

"So you cannot progress with her until you dedicate yourself to nothing but training with her and find an opponent that can stand up to your strongest attacks while gradually increasing the difficulty of the fights you engage in?" Oh, _now_ he kept things succinct. Jackass.

"Yes sir."

"If she is so dangerous, why was Kira-Fukutaicho only in the infirmary for one week?"

"Kazeshini does not get along well with other Zanpakuto, but she does seem to tolerate Kira-san's Wabisuke rather well. She decided to make the injury a serious one but not fatal as a result."

_Wabisuke-kun is a sweetheart. So morose, and pessimistic, but honorable and lovably laconic. He's a brutal, stone-cold-fuck-nut merciless killer too, Shu~kun. We should do that again, it was fun. Please?_

"You mean to tell me that the only reason your sparring did not kill Kira-fukutaicho was because your Zanpakuto plays favorites?"

"Yes, sir." He heard someone shift around uncomfortably at that, and he had a good idea who, too. He just wished his chest didn't freeze up at the sound of it.

_Making her squirm never gets old. Too bad Itegumo is too easy to unsettle – it wouldn't be a fair fight._

"I find that hard to believe. It sounds to me like you can't control your Zanpakuto, Lieutenant." The tone was arguing for the sake of being difficult. Feh, women.

_Or we could practice on Soi-Sauce over there. Suzumebachi is a little skank who needs to be put in her place. Two hit kill __**my ass!**__**We**__ will kill in one hit later, Shu darling. Just remember to __**fuck her up**__ first chance we get._

_**No promises.**_But hell if it didn't sound attractive . . .

"Actually, Soi-Fon Taicho, the wound I treated on Kira-san was significant enough that it should have killed him. That he is alive at the will of Hisagi-san's Zanpakuto is very much true, in my professional opinion." Well, how about that; Unohana to the rescue, everybody!

"Of course, I am quite unsettled to find that Hisagi-san's Zanpakuto has not ceased in her attacks, given that she has never shown him mercy on the cases I was called to treat." He fought down the irritation he felt that she came to his defense just to twist the knife in his gut. He ought to -

_Don't __**ever**__ fuck with that woman, Shuuhei. She will fuck us up seven ways from Sunday without even breaking a sweat or a hair falling out of place. Probably without moving from where she stands, either._

"If one of the Captains were to regularly handle your training regime with Unohana Taicho present, would it permit you to make better progress towards attaining Bankai, Lieutenant?"

"Very much so, Sir."

_Not to mention __**fun as hell**__! _ There was a long, pregnant pause while they waited for the General's next comment.

Just as Shuuhei was about to simply commit seppuku on the meeting room floor to break the tension – and possibly for shits and giggles, but he wasn't telling-, the General shifted.

"Very well. All of this information is to be considered highly classified, and is not to be discussed outside of official Captains meetings, nor mentioned to anyone absent from today's discussion. I wish you to keep me apprised of the situation in your reports, Lieutenant. I will inform you who will be your sparring partner in the near future."

"Understood, sir."

"Good. You may return to your post, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir." Executing a perfect about face, eyes dead ahead, he made his way back to his spot, ignoring the loud grunt Kira, Renji, and Iba gave him in support as he passed by.

_Aaw, Shu, they support you!_

_**They sound like children, grunting to show agreement in rebellion when their parents have told all of them they cannot have another cookie.**_

_It shows they are behind you, which will matter when Kurotsuchi tries to have you demoted._

_**Why the hell would he do that?**_

_Because the Seireitei only has enough room for one loose cannon and one lunatic, and despite his psychoses, he __**is**__loyal to the Gotei._

"Matsumoto-Fukutaicho, step forward." As Rangiku made her way to what would undoubtedly end in a ruckus, Shuuhei fought down a grimace and tried to zone out, while ignoring the curious glances from Isane and the fearful wariness radiating from Ise.

_**I don't want to see this, nor hear it.**_

_Why not? At the least, you could do a counter-argument, help her out a little._

_**And shame her by tarnishing her pride further? No thank you.**_

_What was it Kira-kun said? 'No shame in admitting fact?' The woman is awesome, yes, but she's the second laziest officer in the Gotei 13, Shuuhei. Her Captain loves her too much to ride her too hard, but the General has no compunction about cracking the whip. If she is to stay, her free ride is going to have to stop here, Shu._

_**Nonetheless, I have no desire to see her brought so low after fighting and serving for so long. She has **__**always**__** done what was needed. Sometimes more, sometimes just enough, but never less. He is a fool to replace her so readily.**_ There were shouts and indignant remarks flying about, so the hammer must have finally dropped. He forced himself to tune it out as the shouting seemed to go on forever.

_Well, fine, Shuuhei. That part is over, so you can listen again for now. Unless you want to elaborate on what you meant when you said you wouldn't tarnish her pride by acknowledging the problem. What does that say about your thoughts on Kotetsu, hmm?_

_**Be silent!**_It appeared she was right; Rangiku had returned to stand defiantly behind her captain, and when their eyes met, he saw her nod grimly at the lack of pity his eyes held. She would not lose her posting if she did not choose to; he knew that, her captain knew that, and the others would soon enough. Come to think of it, they already would, if they knew her as well as many claimed they did.

"Ukitake-Taicho, have you demoted your third seats as I instructed?" That comment caused a stir amongst the lieutenants; the ladies were shocked, Isane visibly upset, and Kira playing along as well. Iba met his eyes for a moment, then Renji, and they said nothing more on it. Ukitake looked like someone had just made him watch one of Kurotsuchi's experiments, or told him he couldn't give Hitsugaya candy anymore because it made him look like a pedophile. Speaking of which, he though as he glared inward . . .

_Oh for fuck's sake, it was a __legitimate__ concern. How many grown men do YOU know who go around giving children candy that are NOT creepers, eh? Besides, I apologized, what more do you fucking WANT, eh?_

"Yes, sir. Appointing a new Lieutenant will be problematic, as the only suitable candidate I have is unavailable for the position due to political reasons."

"Their name?"

"Kuchiki Rukia, sir." The General's open, glaring eyes rested on the 6th Division captain.

"Kuchiki Taicho, is this accurate?" To his credit, Kuchiki did not waver in any way under the intense, hostile scrutiny.

"She is unprepared for the obligations and requirements that come with being a Lieutenant. Her friendship with my own Lieutenant has been beneficial, but she is still too irresponsible to-"

"Enough of your nonsense!" The room went silent, Kuchiki's eyes wide at the sudden angry burst of reiatsu and the General actually _interrupting_ someone, _especially_ Kuchiki. "I have tolerated your coddling of her for far too long, Kuchiki. She is capable enough, and we are in a desperate state of war! Three of our strongest have turned traitor with an army of Hollows at their beck and call, replacements for our top positions are limited, and you continue to hold her back and out of harms way for the sake of pride! Enough is enough! You will remove the restriction on her this instant! You will no longer coddle her nor go to these ridiculous lengths to keep her from harm when all she does is throw herself into it anyway! Is that clear?" The room shook beneath the unleashed force of the Captain-Commander's reiatsu, and Shuuhei watched as Kyoraku-Taicho actually shifted to protect Ise, who looked like she was about to drop. Pleasantly, he noticed that Abarai, Iba, Matsumoto, and Isane were able to cover up their struggle to remain standing; Kira didn't even flinch in the time it took them to survey the room before briefly locking eyes.

"Perfectly sir." He turned to face Ukitake. "If you find my sister to be of use to you in a position of responsibility, then I encourage you to make use of her." Ukitake nodded before turning his gaze to the General.

"Then I will appoint Rukia-san as my Lieutenant.

"Good. At the appropriate time, you may promote some_one_ who is _capable_ to the open 3rd seat." Silence weighed heavily as the mood became tense, the Commander's sudden loss of patience hammering home to the Lieutenants just how dire the tactical situation was. Aizen, it seemed, really had them by the balls; Shuuhei hoped he wasn't around when Aizen finally started to squeeze. Then again, it had only been one month, so for the General to already start busting heads this early into it . . .

"Kurotsuchi-Taicho, has your Lieutenant's operation been scheduled?"

"In two days. I am having one lab prepared at the moment."

"You have made it your highest priority?"

"Yes."

"Very well. All Lieutenants, save for Lieutenant Abarai, are dismissed." As the rest began to make their way outside, Shuuhei stopped at the door with Iba and Kira, all three looking back at Renji. He met their eyes, and they offered him nods before Chojiro shooed them out and shut the door.


	4. Blood and Honor

Howdy! Work on the story is still going on, but at random intervals and slowly. However, thanks to a recent unit on Psychopathy in one of my courses, I was able to find the inspiration to work out a kink that's been holding this chapter up for a while.

Unfortunately, I have three research papers at the same time this semester, so I can guarantee this will be the last update for a while, since most of it was already written, and I refuse to post if I have less than 15 pages worth of material for a given chapter.

Additionally, I have begun to design and work on the shikai and Bankai for Nemu, and the bankai for other lieutenants as well. However, because I don't know Japanese nor their grammar structure (and don't get me started on the kanji), things are going very slowly. If there's anyone who reads this who would be willing to simply check my grammar and word usage, I would be very appreciative.

That said, here it is.

-W

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The trio stopped at the rail of the balcony, looking down into the gardened courtyard that made the 1st Division barracks, enjoying the quiet of the fountains. None of the other Lieutenants were in sight, choosing (wisely) to vanish from the General's location given his cranky mood. Silence reigned for a time.

"That was somewhat faster than I anticipated." Iba shifted his arms into his sleeves.

"It would appear so. Nonetheless, I am happy for Renji-kun." Kira actually smiled.

"Never really figured he'd be the first of us to get it." Iba started to scratch his stomach, as he was prone to do when thinking. Shuuhei crossed his arms, not feeling particularly peaceful, given that he had been forced to air his dirty laundry in front of his friends and superiors.

They were still for a moment, black statues above the quiet tittering of the fountains. He felt Iba's gaze turn to him from behind those damned shades, but kept his focus on the many fountains below.

"So . . . I would imagine my friend's Zanpakuto trying to kill him every month since before I met him something worth sharing, right Kira?" Hisagi glared at the Yakuza-wannabe from the corner of his eye.

"Mine didn't begin to start _actually_ trying to kill me until I started giving Isane more attention than her. Yours has _always _tried to kill you, and we had to _pry_ every fact about it out of you, Iba. Mind your damn tongue, hypocrite."

_Just a reminder, Shu, dear: You have to call her Kotetsu-Fukutaicho from know on._ He could practically _hear_ her turn her nose up.

_**Kotetsu.**_

_Kotetsu-Fukutaicho._

_**Kotetsu.**_

_Kotetsu-san._

_**Kotetsu, and I won't use –chan.**_

_. . . Fine, you have a deal. Better honor it, though. And the earlier one, too!_

_**You did your part, I will do mine. Not now though; tonight. Be patient.**_

"Maybe so, but even then, mine hasn't repeatedly put me in the 4th division every month just for shits an' giggles." Kira looked out over the courtyard once more, his arm coming to rest on the pommel of his blade, his obi shifting with the weight.

"We all keep secrets, Iba-kun. I think Hisagi-kun is more embarrassed over the fact that he had to explain before everyone why his relationship with Isane-san has failed when he couldn't bring himself to discuss it before." Hisagi's glare turned on Kira.

"Gee, thanks Izuru. I really appreciate you rubbing it in; it does absolute wonders for my temperament. Have I mentioned lately how much I admire your incredible sense of _tact_?" Kira grinned slyly and shared a look with Iba.

"Well, I only mentioned it so I could ask why you wouldn't look at Kotetsu-Fukutaicho during your dressing down. It was like something out of Hinamori-kun's soap operas, except I was actually breathless in anticipation. Her reactions to your words, what you yourself said- it was like watching a tragic play. I half expected her to shout out your name in sympathy, have you turn around, do the same, throw yourselves at each other, and get busy in the middle of the room while a romantic strings piece came to a crescendo in the background." The romanticism of Kira Izuru, everyone.

Iba's snide remark over Kira's choice of words was lost to him as his attention was suddenly – and a bit violently - forced elsewhere.

_Don't ask Shuuhei. Please, don't ask. It will waver your resolve, and then we will be right back where we started, and all of our progress today will be lost. Please, Shu. __**Please**__, don't ask. Maybe later, but please, please, not now, not when we've just started to cooperate._ Her voice became smaller, like a little girl begging her parents to stop fighting, but afraid to do so.

_Please, Shuuhei, I couldn't stand it if we started to fix things only to be dropped again. It would kill me, Shu. Please don't ask. __Please?__Please!_ He looked at the other two, watching him for a reaction; He took a deep breath; the frantic desperation and fear coming from her in waves left him no choice – which was probably for the best, really.

"If either of you so much as hints at what she was looking like, doing, or likely thinking, then any hope I have of making progress with Kazeshini will be lost, possibly forever." Kira and Iba's faces went wide with shock and horror, sharing a quick glance before looking back to him, solemn.

They nodded, and he felt a wave of appreciation, tinted with non-violent affection (a phenomenon only twice previously experienced), course through him from his blade. He ignored the tremble that seemed to have a hold over her at the moment, and decided to overlook the fact that she actually _begged_ him for something.

"You won't hear nothin' from us, Hisagi." He nodded and stretched, eyeing the courtyard and the blood-red setting sun.

How fortunate he didn't put stock in omens.

"I have to go to the market and pickup a polishing cloth before they close. I'll see you two tomorrow sometime, alright?" They grunted an affirmation, and with a burst of shunpo, he was gone. Iba looked to the west, where Hisagi's reiatsu was rapidly heading.

"Ya know, back in th' academy, my favorite stories were th' ones where th' hero lost the girl, his home, his family, his status, and everythin' else for th' sake of his honor." He heard Kira turn to look at him, and he met his gaze. "But now that I see it goin' on in front of my own two eyes, I can't think of a story I hate more." Kira nodded grimly.

"Well, at least in this story, the friends are there. The sidekicks may die in most stories, but then again, in most stories, the sidekicks are weak, aren't they?" Kira's smile was both grim and violent, one he wore only in a fight, if ever. Iba returned it.

"Very true, Kira. Very true."

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_Oo~oh __**yes! Harder**__, Shuuhei, harder! Oh, faster, you magnificent bastard, faster! YES!_

Shuuhei Hisagi was very uncomfortable, at the moment, and feeling more than a little bit dirty.

As he had promised, he had bought a nice, new polishing rag and a _ridiculously_ expensive polish, along with a treating compound. He was presently in the tiny study of his suite in the small home provided and attached to the 9th Division barracks where no one would see him. True to his word, he had removed Kazeshini and polished her, treated her, and shined her.

After this, he had cut his thumb, and at her request, was rubbing his blood into the blade, which, disturbingly enough, seemed to shine even brighter as it absorbed the crimson fluid into itself.

The purring and appreciative humming she had made during her polishing and treatment he was able to tolerate. The ecstatic moans she made when he bled on her and rubbed it in . . . not nearly as much.

No, forget dirty. _Filthy._ That was a much better word.

"Would you please _stop_ that? It's not possible for you to enjoy this _that_ much."

_Shu~kun, I was only partially there for all your late night romps and rendezvous' with Kanisawa-chan. This . . . is pure ecstasy. Let me enjoy it, boy; you've had your fun without my interference, now let me have mine!_ His hands stilled, and he ignored her whine of disapproval, weakened by her panting and mewling.

"You . . . you were . . . there?" Oh merciful gods above, please, no . . .

_Oh, I wasn't there when you were putting your back into it, Shu. More like a hazy dream than anything else._ She giggled._ After all the shit I gave you over Kotetsu, you don't think it odd that I never once mocked you about being a virgin? Tsk, tsk, Shu~kun. _

She paused, thinking, then resumed moaning as he put more blood into his sweeps of her length, if only to _not_ think about the fact that he was essentially masturbating his weapon, or the suddenly morose mood that struck him inexplicably. Stupid word of honor . . .

_You shouldn't grieve for her, anymore, Shu. She loved you, and died to save you. You realize that, yes? Mmmm, yes . . . She had to choose, in an instant, whether to protect Aoga or you. She picked you without hesitation, and __**that**__ is why the hollow killed her and not you. Not once in all your romps did I ever interfere, because I could tell, Shuuhei. She loved you, and you know what else? She heard me before you did. She spoke to me, talked to me._

Shuuhei stilled at that; speaking to the Zanpakuto of another was the second-most intimate thing one shinigami could do to another, and it was either a sign of utter dedication or utter betrayal to do so without the owner's permission.

He would save the consideration that she knew his emotions better than he did for later – and preferably, never.

"What . . ." He swallowed slowly and began to move his thumb once more, squeezing it to keep the cut from clotting. Minutes passed as she purred, mewed, groaned, and moaned in his hands, his mind distracted sufficiently to ignore the sounds. "What about?"

_Mostly asking me to be strong, keep you strong. Protect you, keep you grounded. Most importantly, if she died, to make sure her replacement was worthy._ Aching longing, sorrow, and anger suddenly erupted in his gut, each fighting to become dominant.

_I told her she wouldn't – Oh, oh right there, lower, yes THERE_, _yes, oh that's it –she wouldn't have survived her first night with you if I hadn't approved of your choice._ She was silent for a time, save for her humming appreciation. As he held her aloft, and saw no blemishes on her, he sheathed her and returned her to his belt. Kazeshini gave off an odd vibe, pondering something as he put the materials away. When she eventually spoke, her voice was quiet, soft, and as calm as she ever was.

_It is time, Shuuhei. Place your emotions for her to rest, just like with Kanisawa. It must be done if we are to fight Captains, succeed, and stand a chance at Bankai._

He rose from his seat and made his way around the desk, moving a set of books to reveal a depression underneath. He pulled out a beautiful mahogany box, and entered the combination.

It was small, and so were its contents: his two failed entrance exam results to the Academy, the first paycheck he had received from the 9th division, and the choker that Kanisawa had bought for him after their second date. He took each object out, admired them silently, and then, after he was done looking, placed them back in the box.

_Take your time, Shu. Do it right._

Gently, his fingers rose to the well-worn choker on his neck and undid it. He turned it in his hands, looking at it, admiring the feel, remembering the blush on Isane's face when she presented it to him.

He thought of the teasing she received when he showed up to the Lieutenant's meeting ten minutes after she gave it to him, wearing it like it had always been there. Their dates, their conversations, her nightmares, their frenzied lip wrestling in the infamous 4th Division linen closet; their fights. He sighed, turning it around again in his hands.

They were over now; the final break was clean, and it occurred to him – in the distant corner of his mind that was prone to pondering - that perhaps he would eventually overcome this one, since she was still alive. He would not mind the scar this one would leave, though it left him feeling hollow. He fought down the surge of regret on how they ended, the wave of desire he felt at the thought of her, and the fear that things were broken forever.

The last was easiest to fight down: one should not fear what is certain, nor what is already done. Even a battlefield can be left behind, if you walk far enough. Pain? Take it like a man and walk it off. Weakness is a sin to be left behind closed doors in the shower and still, lonely moments when there's no alcohol to be had.

A weak warrior is a dead warrior; that much they had learned in the academy and from Aizen just days before. It occurred to him that if it were not for his earlier friendship with Yumichika, he would have died on the roof where they had fought as his Captain turned traitor. There was a lesson there, but his mind was wandering from the task at hand.

With a quick, gentle kiss to the item, he placed it in the box, locked it, and replaced it and the books without any more hesitation. The task complete, he reached into his desk and pulled out one of the armbands he had Akon make for him.

Lengthening it, he placed it around his neck. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the office to work on a little left over paperwork. Taking a seat, he got to work on a tiny little stack, and just as he finished it, she spoke again. Her tone was that of a woman ready to start an argument but hoping to avoid it. He was not encouraged by this.

_Does this mean you are willing to give me your undivided attention until we reach our goal?_ Hmm, right answer, or obviously wrong answer?

_**Perhaps.**_

_No Kotetsu, no drinking, no Men's Association, no Seireitei Times, and no damn paperwork? Just you, me, our opponent, and their blood?_

_**There is ALWAYS time for drinking. **_A brief pause followed.

_**Do I have to strike to kill**__ every__** time?**_ He felt her hold back a sigh.

_Yes. Yes you do. I cannot give everything away, for you will one day still have to master me, but I will tell you the first secret. The first secret is: Death is the last and most poignant form of artistic expression in the world. Animals, plants, even, in a way, inanimate objects are capable of inflicting death in multiple ways. A new picture from the same materials, no two completely and exactly alike, if only for the blood-spatter's unique pattern. This is art, is it not?_

_**That is easily the most disturbing metaphor I have ever heard.**_ She laughed.

_That's irrelevant. You will be fighting Captains from here on out, and some of them, like Soi Fon or Kuchiki, will do their best to kill you because they see you as a loose end that needs tying up. They are strong enough that any of my killing blows will incapacitate, not kill them. This is good, because you still have this weird conscientiousness thing you have to get over. Again, for now, just use my shikai from the start, and just try to hurt them. It will be enough. In the future, we will discuss trusting me, but we need to get the baby steps down first. _

The talking stopped there, and she was silent for the remainder of the evening as he thought things over, and prepared for bed. 

When he finally did get to bed that night, he missed Kanisawa more than he ever had before. Aoga, a bit, too, despite the fact that the jealous bastard spent weeks trying to come between Kanisawa and himself. With a sigh, he banished all though of her smiling face and Aoga's ugly one, and let sleep take him, the winds in his minds' eye whispering of change, promise . . . and carnage.

If Kazeshini knew his dreams were of Isane and himself, she gave no indication in the morning.

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"You have GOT to be shitting me! A weeklong disappearance and you show up covered in _tattoos? _I knew things were hittin' ya hard, Shu', but gods above and below, what the _fuck_ is that?" Hisagi just glared at Ikkaku and Ayasegawa.

"Training." He spat acerbically, moving past them down the street towards the market district.

His initial reaction to Kazeshini's second demand had been similar. More tattoos? The first two hurt enough, thank you. Of course, when she reminded him the other two were there to _honor_ his home district and to _honor_ his lost subordinates, he really didn't have an option to not _honor_ her.

So he filled out a report and sent it to the old man for a weeklong vacation – paid, of course, given that it was work oriented. It took 14 god-damned hours of arguing, but he had won it.

So he had gone to the man who had done his earlier tats and explained it: two Kusarigama with blades crossed on his shoulders, chains going down his arms, around his wrists, and crossing back up around his neck and shoulders before joining the hilts of the weapons he hoped to not become famous for. Add a week to allow the work to be done, and the artist had been shocked, to say the least.

But if there was one thing Hisagi knew how to do, it was stand silently, aggressively, and look scary as hell; and so, in six days, he had it drawn and inked and colored. Oh, the man had warned him of too much toxicity, the danger of too much ink too fast, that such a tat would be permanent well into unlife.

He told the man he would pay him a little extra if he shut up about it, mo-ricky-tic.

True to form, they were quite a sight to behold; the very likeness of his shikai, colored and pressed into his back for all to see, and red in irritation like it was going out of style.

It was hard not to gloat that he got the Division to cover the expense for it, but he managed.

"Now Ikkaku, if Hisagi-kun wants to make himself out like a tomato, who are we to judge? After all, tattoos are unseemly, and he was obviously too far gone with the scars and other ink, so why not indulge a little, ne?"

He ignored Ikkaku's chuckling and continued on his way to his favorite noodle shop. They were fast, blunt to the point of offensive, and didn't dick around when you placed your order. Piss them off, and they'd throw your food at you when it was done.

If he could get his squad half like them, he would be in great shape.

Of course, the two idiots followed him inside to continue their merry game. He ignored them for the most part, until he felt the flicker of Kira's reiatsu – panicked and beaten, from the feel of it – briefly pass by. He turned to look at the other two, who had stopped to sense it as well.

"Either of you know what the hell's going on with Kira?" They shared a grin before Yumichika went into gossip mode, and Shuuhei readied himself to leave if the man forgot when to stop.

"Well, you wouldn't have known it, since you took a week off to _accessorize_, but the General started Kira-kun's training the second day you were gone. Soi Fon Taicho ambushes him at some point in the day and doesn't stop until he's a beaten, crippled mess. Kira makes his way to the 4th division – usually someone who finds him lying broken in the street - where the tenth through twentieth seats all work on him to get him in shape before the process starts over a few hours later."

Hisagi winced – he knew Kira was tough and could take a helluva lot, despite being originally placed in the 4th, but Soi Fon had this thing about men, and-

_She's not a lesbian._

_**What?**_

_She's not a lesbian. Yes, men piss her off, but so did that Yoruwhatsherface. Her idol ditched her, and now she's just one of two female captains. She feels pissed, alone, and threatened._

"In any case, Kira-kun's been running all over the Seireitei trying to give himself space to maneuver. Soi Fon taicho is a master at keeping her reiatsu hidden, so she just beats the crap out of him all day."

"More like beatin' the fuck out of'm, really." Ayasegawa glared at Ikkaku for interrupting his story.

"Such ugly language, Ikkaku, I really don't kn-aah!' In mid spat, the trio ducked as Kira's body flew through the wall behind them across the room over their heads and through the wall separating the main room from the kitchens, accompanied by the sounds of crashing pots, spilled water, enriched flames, and more than a few screams. Hisagi rushed over to the hole in the wall and looked in.

Cooks were running everywhere trying to put out several kitchen fires that had broken out, while Kira was crawling underfoot, drenched in boiling water and noodles. Hisagi hopped the counter and made his way into the steamy, heated room, pulling Kira up and out of the way of the enraged cooks, ignoring the puddles of boiling water and the painful steam encompassing the room.

"Thanks." Hisagi brushed the noodles off Kira as Yumi and Ikkaku peered through the hole.

"You don't look so good, Kira-kun. Rough day?" Kira snorted, and stood upright, his right arm close to his body.

"You could say -oof!" He was interrupted mid-sentence by the sudden appearance of Soi Fon Taicho, who promptly sucker punched him in the gut twice and the chin once before using a roundhouse kick to expedite his departure through a new hole in the back of the kitchen. In another flash of shunpo, she was gone; Shuuhei felt nothing more than the breeze made from her blows, standing only six inches away.

_On second thought, let's wait a bit before we fuck her up, shall we?_

_**Agreed.**_

"Should we . . . I dunno, help him?" Yumi shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ikkaku. General's orders say no one is allowed to help him until Soi Fon Taicho's done beating him senseless."

"Number seven, no soy sauce, extra ginger! UUUUUUUP!" The angry ring of a bell sounded, and Hisagi moved back out to the front and paid before waving goodbye and returning to his office, the manager's angry shouts at the idiot pair ringing like music in his ears.

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He'd been at the paperwork for a little over four hours before his door opened and Iba let himself in, plopping down in the seat across from him and learning back, the small chair creaking under his large frame as the arms disappeared beneath his sleeves.

"Hear ya' saw Kira's training today."

"Mm." Hisagi finished the page he was on and moved onto the next, not looking up.

"Hear ya got another tat'." Hisagi got out his stamp with his name and position on it – a gift from Rangiku's 23rd trip to Karakura – and began to furiously stamp the appropriate signatures for the next month's Mess Hall budget.

He was not happy; they were going to have to switch to Ramen instead of Udon for the next month to stay within the budget. Damned bunch of pansy-ass-

"Oi, Hisagi, I'm talking' to ya, ya ass!" Iba promptly used a free paperweight from Hisagi's desk to clock him in the chest. It bounced off onto the floor somewhere, and Hisagi spared him a glance.

"I need to make these reports on time, Iba. I'm listening." Iba grunted, mollified, and leaned back into the chair again.

"So, Soi Fon Taicho's been whuppin' Kira's ass every day all over the Seireitei. First two days, Yumi an' 'Kakku, then me, then Renji, then me, then Renji, an' today's me too, but you're helpin', from here on. Next week, its' me, you, me, you, an' Renji gets Saturday. Then it's you, Renji, you, Renji, an' I get Saturday."

"And we're responsible for getting him to the 4th on those days?" Iba nodded grimly.

"Yeah, an' you have to watch his reiatsu, too. Twice already, Fon Taicho's left him half dead in a ditch."

_What a cu-_

_**Don't. Don't even think it.**_ She huffed. Hisagi ignored her and reached out; it'd been hours since he saw Kira getting the shit kicked out of him, and it was pretty late.

He frowned, and reached out further. Still nothing.

So he focused harder, and stretched out further. Still nothing. That was bad.

He reached out once more, pushing his senses.

_Found him. Rukongai, 104__th__ district. And he's not alone._ Hisagi's eyes shot open and he grabbed Kazeshini before running out of the room, Iba shouting in alarm and taking off after him. He had gone several hundred feet in just a few shunpo before Iba caught up and shouted at him.

"Where the _fuck _we goin' in such a hurry?" Hisagi eyed him, not bothering to hide his fury.

"Kira's dying. I felt Hollows."

Iba didn't complain when he picked up the pace.

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_Get up._

…Multiple compound fractures of the left…left…. Oh fuckitall… the whatsit...tibia! Yes, the tibia. Internal bleeding in one, possibly both kidneys; high probability of rupture….

_Get up._

…Four fractured ribs causing internal bleeding of the lower left lung…

_Get up._

…Five broken ribs on the right…

_Get up, Kira._

…One pressing uncomfortably on the diaphragm, making breathing difficult; mind possibility of puncture, which would make breathing impossible…

_Get up._

…Damage to the brain causes swelling, which can lead to a concussion, coma, or possible loss of memory or mental faculties. Damage to the occipital lobe would be fatal if delivered through the brainstem; loss of sight…

_Get up. Die on your feet if you must die, but __**GET UP**__, __**KIRA**__!_

…Loss of sight in left eye likely a result of implosion due to force and traumatic damage to fovea; lack of profuse bleeding indicates the optic nerve has not been damaged nor removed from the socket…..

_Die like a man, Kira. Get up._

Shattered kneecaps are difficult to treat as they have no direct blood flow, and cartilage does not renew between the patella and the…the…..scapula?...

_**GET UP, KIRA! THE ENEMY APPROACHES!**_

Making no noise besides the wet, sloshing sounds of his shattered, broken body as it adjusted to the shifting weight, Kira Izuru forced his still functioning right hand into the ground, heaving himself up and onto his broken right foot as best he could with a dislocated shoulder.

The shattered bone in his left leg and knee would have made him cry out, had he the breath to do so. He did not, so his breath - short, haggard, and wet – merely hitched.

As it was, there was simply the wet pattering of blood upon the dirt path that passed as a road this far out in the Rukongai, and the light _chink_ of the tsuba as his one good hand attached to his horribly bruised and dislocated arm held itself relatively steady, _Wabisuke's_ deadly curved hook glinting in the moonlight.

_Much better… for a limp-wristed pansy._

Had his mental acuity not been so badly affected by the three fractures in his cranium, Kira would have found pride in the knowledge that Soi Fon Taicho had been forced to seek the 4th division Captain to regain use of her right arm; such progress in a mere week was substantial.

For the moment, however, he reacted to the gash opening on his lower left side by rolling with the blow, forcing himself to land almost on his neck, but with enough twist to land hard on his dislocated shoulder, jarring the bone back into place with an audible _crack_.

Swinging _Wabisuke_ to the right as he rolled backwards, he caught the Hollow in the shin, spraying blood into the puddle he had already left. It howled, and died on the reverse stroke he made as he used the momentum to turn and block the fangs of another Hollow. He couldn't make out the shape and since something was wrong with his head, a headbutt was out so…..

"Hadō number eleven: Tsuzuri Raiden." Electricity coursed through his blade and into the beast's teeth, forcing it to throw Kira and his blade through a building further down the street, wood and splinters flying about as a cloud of dust obscured the moonlight.

To Kira, he may as well have had Komamura Taicho use his Bankai to pop him in the head. He was paralyzed; the agony was unlike anything he had ever felt, and a part of his mind distractedly noticed that such a level of pain should have forced unconsciousness by now, but at least he wasn't screaming. But why was he still conscious…?

_I cannot allow that. You must heed my words, and die fighting, Pain is necessary. Get up._

Kira would have made a mental note to tell Unohana Taicho how a Zanpakuto could force their bearer to remain conscious in case of extreme trauma, but the Hollow about to crush him underfoot took precedence. No way he was getting up that quick, and no footing for shunpo…..

"Hadō fiftyeight: Tenran." A massive conical gust of wind threw the Hollow – and others, from the sound of it – with the rest of the building. Kira rolled to his feet and swung on instinct; his blade struck true through a mask but another blow sent him flying down the street.

He bounced thrice, each hit jarring him from toe to head and back, leaving him propped on his half-good leg, hunched over somewhere in the street; all the dust and blood made the double vision worse to see through.

A Hollow struck at him from the right and he blocked it with his blade, flicking his wrist repeatedly, tapping the flat of the blade against the beast's teeth once, twice, a third time; the effect activated and the Hollow shrieked, falling into the earth hard, unable to lift its head. He finished it with a weak blow, before swinging low and to the right to block the blow from a tail that had penetrated his guard.

He missed.

The strike landed against his shattered ribs and fully punctured his diaphragm, making breathing impossible as he felt his body fly through the night air as though by shunpo.

It was a pitiful death, and futile rage flashed through him even as his heart quailed at the thought of such a meaningless end, waiting for the hard impact his head would soon make with the ground.

Hands caught him and the landing was ridiculously softer than it should have been. He heard a voice, but as though from far away, and with an odd strain in it that Kira hadn't heard before.

"I gotcha, Kira. Hang in there, buddy. I gotcha, you're gonna be okay. Hang in there, alright?"

Hehehe….what kind of asshole wore sunglasses in the moonlight? Hehehehe…

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Tetsuzaemon Iba was no stranger to shame, or fear, or sadness. Anger, bitterness, disappointment, and melancholy were old friends to him.

So the rage coursing through his veins and distancing him from Kagekoroshiya's voice was off-putting only in that he was not nearly as familiar with it.

More than a hundred Hollows had been in the area, and Kira's last blast had taken about a dozen of them out; the streets were lined with smashed debris around a massive pile of blood that had heavy traces of Kira's reiatsu around it. He hadn't expected to have to catch the poor bastard, or that he'd have three cracks in the skull and feel like everything was broken.

The bloody eye socket was a little nauseating though; and the rage was starting to pound against his skull as the Hollows surrounded them quickly, Hisagi seemingly in a trance. Kira tried to speak, but aside from an attempt to move his glazing eyes, no sound came from him, no rise and fall of his chest – though the hole in his stomach might have something to do with it. Tetsuzaemon felt fear climb its way up to coil around his throat, but his mind pushed the blame and recriminations away.

"Hisagi, he's dyin' on us." They were surrounded by close to a hundred Hollows strong enough to keep pace with a Lieutenant. Iba could get away; it _was_ night, and he knew how to utilize his shikai to its fullest. Hisagi, though….

"Go. Come back when you can." Iba grunted and activated his shikai without a second of hesitation, melting into the shadows cast by the buildings before racing along the inky black of night for the 4th division grounds and Unohana Taicho's reiatsu with all the speed he could muster.

Shuuhei didn't need to watch Iba as he retreated with their fallen friend; his reiatsu showed his determination to get Kira to the 4th as easily as it told of his fear and rage.

_**Will he live?**_

…

_**Kazeshini, will he live?**_ He felt rage begin to pool within her, tight, controlled, coiled, and ready for directed release, a far cry from the wild strain for chaotic destruction she usually preferred.

_I cannot hear Wabisuke; He is lost to me. I imagine Kira-kun shan't be far behind._

He gripped her handle tightly as the hollows began to circle around him, as though they could prevent his escape with their sluggish movements.

_Shuuhei, we are not Kenpachi. We will not use our rage to thrash and wail about._

_**No?**_

_No. We __could__, were we so inclined, but directed rage communicates hate much better. Use me, Shuuhei. Strike them without mercy. Use every blow to maim, to slay, to let them reap what they have sown. Hurt them, Shuuhei. Make them bleed._

He took a deep breath, and blinked slowly; when his lids came up again, there was nothing but death in his eyes.

_I am useless without you, Shuuhei. Release me on our enemies. Avenge Kira. Show them your strength. Use me, Shuuhei._

"Reap, Kazeshini." His hands were both full, and her blades gleamed with unrestrained menace as the hollows cried out and began their attack.

_Combat and Death are forms of art, Shuuhei. Show me your artistry._

He smiled, and let the blood flow.

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	5. Inglorious Death

Well, this is something of an awkward re-introduction.

Howdy.

Things have developed somewhat since my last post back-in-the-day. Graduation, moving, Graduate school, Ladytype, Computer and hard drive wiped, etc. Couple that with not following Bleach as closely, and my motivation/attention to the story has effectively tanked. I haven't abandoned it, though; just going far, _far_ slower than I had originally anticipated (priorities and whatnot).

That said, I apologize for the delay that looks like abandonment, though I must admit the pace will likely not increase any. I also apologize for the poor formating - I wrestled with this thing and lost. By all means though, please – enjoy. I _did_ take some liberty with one character, this chapter – you'll see which one. :D

-W

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His first throw struck through the masks of two hollows and the bodies of three more, mauling them. Using shunpo, he gained altitude above another six and hammered them with successive blasts of Byakurai, short and condensed, each one cutting a sharp, small hole in a mask.

It wasn't enough to kill or completely destroy, however, and they howled in pain and fury as he shunpoed hard to his right, swinging his left hand brutally into the mask of a smaller hollow before catching and twisting and then loosing the other from his right into a crowd above him.

Two dodged it and three didn't. The blade spun its way through flesh and bone, bottom to top, giving the death wails of the three a particularly anguished cry as they split in two before disintegrating. He blocked another that tried to tear out his stomach with his left arm and delivered a punch to its head with his right.

He twisted his left hand and the blade found purchase in the eye socket, allowing him to rip the mask in half in a shower of blood and a high-octave shriek from the beast before it dissipated. A short hop over the last wounded one allowed him to squarely land half his right blade into the thing's crown, tearing it forcefully out of the skull.

Throwing himself into a backward summersault to avoid a bladed arm, he crouched low on the ground and lunged to his left, avoiding another heavier hollow that had tried to drop on him. A stronger blast of Byakurai through the left eye, killing it, before a hard shunpo twenty feet up to avoid a spiked tail.

His left hand blocked the meaty fist that swung from behind him at the waist, twisting in the air to deliver a nasty roundhouse kick coupled with an unchanted Bakudō 8: Seki for the extra 'umph'. While it wouldn't repel the thing more than a few inches, it gave enough room to split it from chin to crown and hop back to avoid the blood.

That last hop was a mistake, however; a fiery tug that blossomed into pain in his left side told him he had let his guard down. He twisted to the right, the motion expelling the blade from his gut as he swung his right hand backwards into the groin, a sharp tug causing the hollow to lose its balance before he stuck the tip of the blade viciously into its crown.

He ignored the flare of satisfaction and ducked under a cero.

**_SHIT! Where the HELL did that come from?!_**

_Mind your surroundings, Shu~kun._

He glanced in the direction of the blast and ducked under a claw swipe, his eyes widening as he returned a backhand blow into the skull of his assailant. The other blade tore through the skull of another before it finally returned to his right hand.

In the distance, hovering miles above ground was a fortress with two sharp spires on the bottom, a massive, gaping hollow mask atop it, with a hollow hole in the middle. Beneath it, some thousand yards away, Shinigami fought against other hollows while what may be an Arrancar stood watching in the background.

Shuuhei's blood ran cold in his veins as his mind made sense of the sight.

.

.

.

.

.

Arrancar.

.

.

.

.

.

HERE! In the Seireitei!

And if today was Thursday…

_It is, Shu. Looks like your 20th seats were all on patrol like you told them. Hindsight sure is a bitch, huh?_

His men were dying.

"He who walks his own path, shielded from the sling of others, lest they trespass on his fate: Bakudō Number Sixty Two: Hyapporankan!" Feeding more reiatsu into the incantation than he should, Shuuhei targeted the seven hollows before him, pinning them quickly to the ground before throwing himself into the air.

"Hadō Number Thiry-Three: Sōkatsui! " The extra flux in reiatsu he put into it bathed the pinned beasts in flame, their shrieks cutting short before falling silent. Without a second of hesitation, he leapt into shunpo.

He arrived above the fray as his men took down another two hollows with a careful application of Kidō and teamwork, just as he had emphasized at their last training session. Komakura, Itsumori, Waidukku, Hichigudo, and Fadosuka all were down in the road, none of them moving. Umesada was lying off halfway in a doorway, pretending to be grievously injured when all he had was a scratch.

Kurotada and Kuronaga, wonderful men that they were, had come to the fore; each would block the fangs and blades of one hollow while others cut them down. It looked like they'd been at it for a while; he felt a tug of pride as they downed another three in short order.

Hofushike was using Kidō to the best of her ability with only one arm, and Gefujiido leapt amongst the hollows, cutting where he could find an opening the others left him.

"Lookout, Hisagi Fukutaicho!" He ducked in time to avoid another cero that was a good hundred feet in height, the buildings below disintegrating as he heard a brief shout from Yomofuchi that was silenced too quickly.

He spun and threw his right blade out, too late to save Daishumori from being bisected, but fast enough to block the Hollow's second stroke from splitting Yukasumi's head; she promptly used byakurai to kill it before turning to help the others. He heard laughter over the roar of a Hollow that attempted to swallow him whole; jumping up and splitting it from inside its mouth he shunpoed higher into the air to face the likely source of the problem: The Arrancar.

She was merely standing in the sky, a good twenty yards out, watching as the Hollows took their time trying to down his squad. Her staff was taller than she was, with curved blades atop it more reminiscent of a ruler's scepter than a sword.

_I hate her already. Too much purple. She looks like a frigid teen playing at being a grown woman. Who the hell would wear a dress to a battle and then couple plenty of midriff with a high collar? You can't be a chaste whore! Come. On!_ He was inclined to agree.

The white Arrancar uniform had been modified into something of a dress; Shuuhei felt it would likely limit her mobility, assuming she needed it. Delicate features were lost under a mass of curiously pink eyes, purple hair and lipstick; a tasteful gold necklace hung in a double loop precisely around her neck. He saw no indicators of power or purpose in it, but reminded himself of his own accoutrements.

Shuuhei fought the urge to laugh, and he would have just outright attacked, but military intelligence was always a priority - especially if it was from an Arrancar that had somehow managed to breach Soul Society _with a mobile fortress_. Consequently, he hazarded a lighter inquiry, eyeing her oversized staff warily.

"I won't judge the Rabbit ears or helmet, but if you're an Arrancar, shouldn't it be more…sinister?" He heard her snort derisively over the distance and ducked under a Hollow's tail, killing it with his right blade without taking his eyes off his new enemy. She played with her necklace before replying, eyeing him as is she couldn't decide how she wanted to kill him.

"I was under the impression you Shinigami were supposed to play by the rules – does that not include polite courtesy?" Behind him, he heard Buchimaru yell out in hopeful triumph as he cut down his first hollow. He idly hoped the man remembered to keep his hips low; his long-stance was always too damn high.

_Do you think she's aware she sounds like a bitch? Or does she think she sounds cultured? Please tell me we can take this prudish cocktease for the worst possible ride…_

"I _am_ looking you in the eyes instead of your tits." She affected affront at this, though her stance showed more amusement than indignation – she left her left side open for five seconds.

_Not that she really has much room to talk…Like the approach, Shuu-kun. Try for something cruder next time - something you'd see nothing wrong with saying to Kotetsu, for instance._

**_Shouldn't you be helping me find flaws to exploit so we can get out of here alive instead of acting like a petty woman at a dance?_**

_… Her sword looks sharp. Don't touch it._ He huffed, still furious.

_…You know, so you don't get a disease or something._

"Well, you certainly have a mouth on you for a Shinigami. Tell me, boy, do you have a rank? Or are you simply the only one foolish enough to attack a superior foe on your own?" He made sure not to open his stance.

"Court Guard Squad Nine Fukutaicho, Hisagi Shuuhei." She smiled, and behind him he heard Tsuyuyumi die, cursing with her last breath in defiance as her killer wailed its last in response.

"A lieutenant and you have a mouth like that? Hmm, I wonder if they do not require culture of their officers, or if you are simply particularly uncouth. Very well, then, Hisagi-Fukutaicho. I am Arrorria Allallantia, Arrancar number 31 of Aizen-samma's army." He tensed at this, and forced the memories of Tosen down. "I do hope you will provide better sport than these disappointing chattels I have encountered so far." Shuuhei ignored the indignation he felt on behalf of his troops, given the obvious nature of the provocation.

It was fortunate that he did, for the next breath had him struggling to avoid a barrage of slimmer Cero that left almost no room to maneuver. Somewhere behind and below him, he heard the sounds of the impacts, the wails of hollow and Shinigiami as the Cero struck home.

He spun hard to his right and blocked her staff with his right hand and barely deflected a hard punch with her left, twisting his blade and feeling it scrape against her knuckles, finding no purchase. He had a moment to think 'Shit!' to himself before she reversed the momentum on her staff, flinging him further out from the town and into another hollow, his back stinging with the contact.

He rolled over the beast, dragging Kazeshini with him, spilling open the creature's belly, swinging blindly at the source of the howl to silence it before spinning in the air to find enough purchase to shunpo to another spot some hundred feet to the left.

He rolled forward immediately, twisted, and slid back in the air a good twenty feet as she appeared behind him with a buzz, forcing him to use both blades as her swing hit him hard. He felt pain flare in his wrists, hands, and elbows as he forced the lock to stay center mass, keeping her from using the momentum to take his head off. Beneath them, he heard Umesada scream for help and several hollows howl out in triumph.

"I must give you credit, Hisagi-Fukutaicho. I was concerned that you would not be able to perceive my most sluggish strikes like some of your subordinates. I think I need to initiate a reevaluation of my previous opinion." With that, the pressure on his blade was gone and in a sudden buzz of sound.

Hurriedly he turned to follow the screams, finding in a glance that she had crushed Yukasumi and then used her crumpled body to club and daze Tomoyujii, before punching a hole through his head. She turned around to survey which of his men to kill next, no hurry in her motions.

Without hesitation he loosed Kazeshini from his left hand and shupoed to a higher spot further to his right, then loosed her from his right hand, mindful to hold onto the chain correctly this time.

The damn woman used sonido to avoid the left blade which continued on to tear through six more hollows, killing five and leaving another crippled, making space for Kurotada and Kuronaga to kill their own target before dispatching it.

He took no pride in this, as she was before him, staff in full swing. Stepping with his left foot on the chain and pulling it taught with his right hand, he managed – barely- to block her strike, using the rebound provided by the chain's flexibility to wrap a loop around the edge of her blade.

"Hadō Number Thirteen: Tsuzuri Kanki!" Ice leapt from his chain onto her staff, rapidly spreading to her wrists and arms, allowing his to unhook the chains and unleash a solid, concentrated blast of Hadō 54: Haien.

He spoke too slowly, however, and so the purple disk caught her indirectly and he was forced to roll as he felt a fierce pain in his wounded left side, the tail end of her staff catching him on the reverse swing as she backflipped to avoid the spell.

_Ooh, I think that one might have upset her, Shuuhei. We should do that again. And by again, I mean not 'let's always destroy our enemy's clothing', but rather 'why are we still fighting her face to face instead of repeatedly attacking from behind?'_ It was true; the Arrancar was glaring at him instead of smirking as she had been.

What should have been a spell that disintegrated her torso and head had merely destroyed part of the shaft of her staff, and taken off a small part of her left side. Consequently, with the clothing gone, her dress had opened up, leaving her bare-chested, the scrap of clothing left hanging limply at her right hip.

A cursory glance revealed them to be … pert.

_Shuuhei, it's rude to stare. Also, we're fighting for our lives. No tits for you!_

"An interesting trick, Shinigami." She flexed her wrists and broke the ice binding them. "In all of my struggles, I have only had three opponents who have besmirched my modesty." Her pink eyes narrowed. "I hate it when uncouth louts impugn on my propriety."

He heard the sonido and only registered that she had closed the distance in the second it took her to ram the sword end of her staff through his midsection, punch him in the face with such force that his nose shattered completely, damaging his left eye socket before hurling him to the ground below.

_See? I always told you: staring at tits leads to nothing but trouble. Now look at how fucked you are. Why did you do that? You should not have done that. Tsk, Tsk, Tsk._

He was too dazed to react, so he hit the ground full force, leaving him breathless and writhing in agony, numb to the victorious howls of the hollows around him or the near-hysterics of his subordinates. He rolled to his right to avoid being impaled by one hollow, and killed it with an offhand stroke, only to curse as she appeared again, cutting him in the right side, tearing up to his ribs, and hurling him down the street through several buildings and a street cart.

As he lay there in the rubble, his eyes met Hofushike's panic-stricken ones across the street, holding her stump of an arm, looking haggard. He mouthed 'warn them' twice; taking solace that she got the message the second time and disappeared in shunpo.

_Well, Shuuhei, we're pretty fucked. Think you can tear into her enough to leave a mark before we buy it?_ Anger coursed through him at the notion that his own blade would give up on him so freely, and she responded by flooding an almost manic energy back into him.

The Arrancar was suddenly upon him, and he threw Kazeshini upwards, going wide by her left ear, bringing his left arm up to block her blade. She smirked again, peering down at him.

"You are rather desperate to get a good view, are you not, Lieutenant? That is a shame, given how vulgar it is. You really should try to learn some manners." She applied more pressure, and Kazeshini's hilt began to dig into the hole in his middle. "Then again, it would appear that you lack the necessary time to learn such etiquette, bearing your current predicament in mind."

At that point, Buchimaru attempted to hit her with a weak shot of byakurai, which she merely ducked under before unleashing a cero in retaliation. The brief attempt at a cry told him that they would find no remains of the poor bastard, but it gave him the chance to tug on the chain. She turned back to him.

"You have no time to learn manners, and your men have no time to learn proper combat technique. It is a wonder that Aizen-samma did not kill you all to begin with, shinigaaah!"

_GOTCHA, BITCH!_

Shuuhei had to admit to feeling satisfaction that Kazeshini had managed to come back on the return with such quiet that the Arrancar hadn't heard her coming, and moreso that she bit hard and deep into the thing's left shoulder with enough momentum to take her over his head and into the next building.

He rolled up and shupoed into the air, dispatching two hollows in the process, before hurling his left blade with enough force that the holes in his body tore open further, bleeding freely.

He had timed it correctly, and despite the wicked wind blowing through the area now, he managed to loop Kazeshini around the Arrancar's neck – though her staff blocked it from being as close as he liked. With a heave, he sent her flying into another part of the rubble, slamming her into hollows and debris as the winds danced along the chain, cutting her as she flew before making solid impact with the ground. Dust and debris filled the air where she made impact, the sound of battle going still.

The pain was too strong now, though, and so he landed, crouching to alleviate the stress on his mauled abdomen. Behind him, down the street, he heard Gefujiido, Isoroko and Rokurota approach, while Kurotada and Kuronaga tried to stabilize Umesada. Ahead of him coming from the other end of the street, Kagaki and Soruken were covering for Chiimiikitsu who was carrying a mauled Hofushike on her back.

**_The Goeti don't know we're here. Help isn't coming._**

_No. Your hope is in Iba getting to the 4th, and the 4th warning the others._

**_The 4th are healers. They won't send aid until the area's clear._**

_No. They won't._

"Hisagi Fukutaicho! We need to retreat while we still can!" Hisagi stood fully, struggling not to show how much pain he was in.

"Hai, there's more coming, Lieutenant! We need to flee before they cut us off!" There was fear in their voices, concealing terror.

_Poor bastards don't even realize they're already dead, do they?_ Laughter stopped him from responding to anyone. From the rubble down the street the Arrancar stood, her clothing tattered, breasts hidden behind her arms as they held her staff to lean on, hollows bleeding from the fortress behind her and quickly surrounding them.

"I see I did not take you seriously enough, Hisagi Fukutaicho. Why, a few more seconds and my neck would have been notably injured. I accredit you for making me bleed, but I have an objective of my own, and I must see to it, no matter what pleasant sport you provide. Do not fret, however; I shall not leave you unattended."

She smirked, and with a roar that nearly drowned out the terrified screams of his men, the hollows charged their small circle, blades and claws outstretched. Shuuhei's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened as he brought his blades up, the terrified remnants of his 20th seats preparing themselves.

_One reaps what one sows._

**_Agreed._**

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Tetsuzaemon would have normally considered the ramifications of risking Unohana-Taicho's wrath long and hard before ever risking damage to her person or property. After all, the 4th was where all the healers, medics, doctors, and medical specialists of the Gotei were stationed, and without them, the afterlife could be a long, hard time.

So when he realized later that he had literally broken down the door, run over a half dozen squad members, run through the offices to the E.R., and bellowed for Isane so loud that he had effectively deafened several of her surgeons, he had to place it in context for himself.

The two minutes it had taken him to race halfway across the Seireitei with the poor bastard in his arms had been like a lifetime, and he found himself only marginally calmer after he got there – until he realized all the other medics were stunned at the damage Kira had undergone. He would have been moved to further violence if Kotetsu hadn't shown up when she did, feeling Kira's blood seeping into his clothing the entire while.

"What _happened_ to him?! Put him here, gently!" He complied, and hesitated when she stopped him from letting go of the gurney, her grip conspicuously strong as steel.

"What the hell d'ya think yer doin'? I gotta go back!" He tried to let go, but the woman's unseemly strength was suddenly nothing reminiscent of a fluke.

"At this level of trauma the only way he's alive is by latching on to your own reiatsu – you let go of him and leave, he dies!" She glanced at the other division members. "Get teams four through six in here! Hanatarou, get the Taicho! Iba, be still!" Tetsuzaemon adjusted his grip and held on, and hoped someone would figure out what was going on out there before Shuuhei got himself and all his squad killed. He positioned himself out of the way as best he could over Kira's head, and watched as the surgeons began to work.

Isane and a number of the other 4th staff left shortly afterwards to where he said the fighting was; he didn't remember giving them directions, but he remembered glancing away from Kira's guts to see Kotetsu run out of the operating room like her ass was on fire.

Surgery was a gross thing, he would later decide; it was one thing to gut your enemy, but generally the poor bastard would die. It wasn't natural for someone to be opened up and have others poking around one's innards like that. It wasn't natural for there to be so little blood, either, and while he was curious about it he would rather just assume it to be Kido. Watching Unohana and Iemura work together, he realized that the redeeming quality of the seemingly useless ponce was his skill at the operating table; the fop's skinny fingers were faster with the tools than the Captain's. The fool never hesitated once, going from artery to organ to tendon to vein; cuts, sutures, and stiches as precise as that Quincy kid's needlework.

It was not until much later, on his way to report to his Captain after they released him - when he thought back about how no one dared to challenge, speak, or look directly at him - that he realized his shikai had been released his entire time going to and residing in the 4th division barracks.

He had maintained it without effort or thought. So while his friend was dying on the table, he passed on to his next trial for Bankai.

Great.

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Renji was feeling rather conflicted at the moment, and was thankful for the shades that Kuchiki-Taicho had begrudgingly gifted him as he made his way through the halls of the 5th Division to his office.

Hinamori had been more than happy for him, and neither had addressed the gaping emotional wound that was Aizen's treachery, more than content to overlook that particular circumstance. He had just gone through the barracks, finding it nostalgic that not much had changed since his time here. Roughly half of the faces were different, but given the time lapse, it was to be expected.

He stopped, when he arrived at the Captain's office, uneasy. He had been since before the meeting started. The guys had thought it was over his impending promotion, or over the fact that Kuchiki Taicho had tried so hard to keep him from taking the seat. While he wasn't the smartest shinigami ever, he knew better than to let on otherwise.

He entered, and found the office was largely barren – a desk, writing materials, basic form organization materials, and a kitchenette that ran into the adjoining room, complete with coffee maker and all the accessories.

He stepped outside and looked for Hinamori, but couldn't find her; his third seats hadn't been in when he arrived, and all the pseudo-cubicles were all empty. He made his way into the yard and found some underlings lazing about near the mess.

They were so very, very young, to his eyes; no scars, no worry lines, no experience, steel, or wisdom in their faces. They were young, green, and just from standing there, eyeing them from behind his shades, he could tell not one of them had seen combat since their required outing to graduate from the academy. He wondered if that was how Kuchiki and the older Captains thought of Lieutenants like himse- like he had been, or his friends.

When they told him there wasn't any furniture left in the barracks, he dismissed their loitering and returned to his barren office. He took the time to re-arrange things to his liking, and then made his way to his new housing, attached to the barracks themselves, on the second story. There was a simple bed and nightstand, an empty closet, and a catalogue with the prices for outfitting a Captains home as well as the man to send the order to, paired with his Gotei-sanctioned budget.

He leafed through it without seeing, and sat down on the bed, frustration mounting. Were all his troops as green as the children he'd seen down the hall? Were there no real veterans in his division? What did the Captain-Commander expect from him, throwing an inexperienced administrator to oversee a unit with no experience, no specialization, and no esprit de corps? How did one even build something like that, let alone in the face of its Captain's treachery?

More importantly, what of Aizen's reputation for building the division into one of the most skilled in the Gotei? If it was true, why shift all the people around until the division was massively restructured and fragmented, instead of checking the loyalty of the members? If it wasn't true, then why ruin unit cohesiveness by shifting personnel?

Why not even bother giving him general orders for his available time here, especially after dressing down all the Captains and Lieutenants and demanding everyone improve or else? If he was threatening to permanently sack people who couldn't perform, then why make him a Captain, against the advice of most of the other Captains, and then fail to give him orders or instruction about what to do?

Was he supposed to exercise some autonomy here, or was this simply to put him out of the way for later use as a reserve? And what use could he be, besides maybe a stalling action and throwing the fodder that the 5th division had become into a breach to buy time?

He rose and grit his teeth, suppressing a growl as he shed his clothes and entered the shower, letting the scalding heat soak in as he thought. The Gotei was at war with a Traitor Captain who mastered deception at a level unheard of. Ichimaru was a prodigy by himself, and the only reason he creeped people out was because he was amused by doing so. Tosen was a nut, but quiet enough to go undetected. The only advantages the Gotei would have against them were those they developed in the interim between their defection and the next battle. The Captain-Commander had made that plain, and Renji was inclined to agree.

As he considered it, that might be why he was given no instruction – oversight. There were a lot of changes slated and ordered, but implementation would take a couple days at the fastest, and given the independence of the different divisions, it would make sense that communication suffered as well. If he wanted to acquit himself well, he would be best served by trying to utilize his time productively. The problem lay in figuring out what would be useful, since he had no idea what the division may be used for in the coming war. This limited his options, since choosing the wrong thing would weaken his combat effectiveness instead of increasing it.

He could begin by arranging skirmishes within his own division, utilizing the basics, to get a feel for where everyone was and to start familiarizing the men with one another. That should give him time to decide the next step and keep the men busy. But beyond that, he was far too unsure how to go from there, and one could not appear indecisive when leading. He would have to consult on the next phase quickly, but his selection of peers was limited. The other Captains would be preoccupied with their own efforts, and the Lieutenants were not to be consulted about division affairs outside of their own.

That was what would hurt him the most in the immediate; he couldn't go to Rukia anymore to hash out ideas. Hinamori was a sweetheart, but she was still recovering from Aizen's betrayal, and while she was always a whiz at Kido, she was not the most tactically keen mind. 'A made Lieutenant', as Kuchiki-Taicho always liked to put it. As he dried off and dressed himself, that particular thought gnawed at him. He had spent years in Kuchiki's shadow, and while he _had_ learned, the instruction had always seemed to be a begrudging one.

Nearly killing the jerk hadn't helped matters really, especially when it became obvious that he was still sorely outclassed. He'd like to think that his rapid advancement was a good thing, but it didn't matter, and wouldn't, until he caught up to Kuchiki's level. He needed to consult someone else – anyone, really – and as he lay there in bed, he decided to hazard it.

**_Uh… Zabimaru? You there?_**

No response.

**_Listen here, you circus freaks, answer me!_**

_We already told you back when you learned shikai…_

_We ssssimply don't care enough to be bothered with thingsss that aren't fighting._

_You wanna talk, find somebody who can be bothered. You want to fight, fine. We'll stand by you like we always have, baka._

_But anything outsssside combat isss of no interessst to usss._

**_I haven't even asked anything yet!_**

It seemed not to matter; he spoke, commanded, jibed, taunted, insulted, screamed, and pleaded, but Zabimaru remained silent. He gave up after a thirty minutes; his blade had never been a good source for introspection to begin with. It was likely his own fault – he never really shared his burdens with others, and generally kept his own counsel on personal matters, and his blade valued fighting and simplicity.

Indeed, that was his entire attack strategy to begin with: Hit it until it stops moving. It moves? Hit it some more. Even his Bankai had been a short step up from this basic approach: hit it from multiple directions at the same time with a bigger edge. He would have to consider how to get around that, since he wasn't like Kenpachi, who could just forget how to die. Hinamori was a recognized Kido expert though, so he could simply just order her to teach him – though since they were old friends, she'd likely jump at the chance to help.

He rubbed his eyes and rolled over, deciding to let the matter hold until morning; his head hurt too much when he thought too hard or for too long. As he slipped away, he smiled half-heartedly to himself – it was a good thing he would have time to acclimate to his command before the war broke out in earnest. He didn't need any more fighting as of yet.

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_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat*_

"I need to see your wounds, Shu."

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* Drip…_

Hisagi continued to stare, his eyes hard and merciless. Tosen-Taicho would have been unabashedly ashamed.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat*_

Moreso if every breath wasn't terribly labored and a likely sign of imminent death, as well.

A distant part of him, hidden somewhere within the recesses of his mind, felt shame at the sight of his men. twenty bodies – every 20th seat from his division - with nothing to show for it, and of all of them, it had to be that fat bastard Umesada who might yet live. Of course the coward would survive. How would injustice be served if he didn't?

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat*_

"Shu, I want to help, but you need to put your blades away." He ignored the fear in her voice, and didn't look away from the carnage. He couldn't.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _ He managed a shallow, wet breath.

_Drip… *splat* Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip…_

_What a coward she is. This is your blood. Hollow blood! The blood of your men, shed in battle! A sign of death, of war. Is she so afraid of it that she cannot bring herself to minister to you, when you don't have the strength to move? Even with the danger over?_ She made a disgusted noise.

_How you could ever love such a coward is beyond me, Shu-kun. Fitting that she would surround herself with those who could save her when she couldn't save herself. Her placement in the 4th Division makes even more sense, now._

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat*_

**_She's never seen . . . this side of me. Of course . . . she'd be afraid. She thinks I've . . . gone psychotic._** He paused. Another wet, labored breath, defined by hitching pain. Too hard, should be easy. Bad sign, when coupled with the slow thoughts.

**_Is this what . . . dying . . . feels like?_** He wished he felt something at the query – fear, sadness, concern – anything besides calm, numb acceptance.

_Hai._ She sounded proud, unashamed, and unafraid. _You have no reiatsu left, nor I. If I did, we'd still be fighting._

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… *splat*_

_Drip… Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat*_

**_All the hollows . . . are dead. All that's . . . left is the destruction and . . . the bodies . . . of my men._**

_There are always more targets, Shuuhei. It's just a matter of finding them. And those weren't your men. They sought to aid you because it was their duty to do so and because you increased their odds of survival, not out of loyalty. You are Tosen's patsy, as far as they were concerned. Their deaths were fortunate, if not entirely necessary._

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… *splat*_

_Drip… Drip… *splat*_

To his right, he heard Isane curse, and his eye wandered to her. She looked afraid – well, only someone who knew her well would see it – and she kept trying to get close, but every time she came within five yards, something cut her and forced her back. He blinked, slowly, as she was cut again, anger and despair warring on her face as sharply as the several cuts to her uniform.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… *splat*_

Kazeshini was still firmly grasped in each bloody hand.

**_What the . . . hell is . . . hurting her?_** He heard the cruel, malicious giggle in his mind.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Drip… Drip… *splat*_

_Congratulations, Shu~Kun! You developed your secondary shikai ability! I really, truly didn't think you had it in you, but I admit, you surprised in spectacular fashion!_ He found he lacked the strength to be angry or indignant as another attempt yielded Isane a bloody nose. That didn't bother him like it should have; it was just another fact of the world he found himself surrounded by.

**_What other . . . ab . . .ilities can I . . . unlock? How many . . . more . . . are there? Why didn't . . . you t . . . tell . . . me?_** She giggled in the coy manner she favored when bemused by his commentary or thoughts.

_Drip… Drip… Drip… *splat* _

_Silly Shuuhei, we're dying! You don't need to know that sort of thing where we're going!_

"Shuuhei, _please_, put her away before it's too late to help you! Please!" He heard the panic in Isane's voice over the din of Kazeshini's laughter, and despite himself, he reacted.

He turned his head slightly to the side, and tried to speak, wanted to answer her, but the act used up the last of his non-existent strength.

He collapsed slowly, her shocked shout reaching his ears and terrified visage hinting through the bloodied tint of the moonlight only moments before his head hit the dirt, and then he could no longer feel his own body.

He realized he didn't really mind all that much, as Kazeshini reverted to her sealed form in his hand. He felt her coil around his consciousness like a murderous lover in the throes of dying madness – an odd mix of hatred, resentment, and affection tinged with broken loyalty.

Each nerve, each muscle seemed to shut off in furious, rapid procession, and as he felt his mind slow and his sight and hearing fade with a last glimpse of Isane's terrified, grey eyes and voiceless shout so far above him, he felt Kazeshini too - waiting with him as everything shut off, and the pain faded.

He had won, had helped save Kira; the enemy had not seen him fall. True, that bitch had escaped him, but really, fighting an Arrancar to a standoff on one's own was nothing to sniff at – for a Lieutenant, anyway. Thank the gods he'd be dead before they found out what she looked like.

Death would be a small mercy compared to the guys seeing what had fucked him up so badly and then ribbing him for the rest of his afterlife for it. No, it was better this way.

Isane was a sweet girl; she would never leave his body to rot, breakup or no. He would be burned with full honors. She might even attend, as he thought about it, and the thought brought a flash of pleasure. He always tried to be a decent guy, especially concerning her, and she would probably remember him fairly. He hoped she found happiness, and survived the war; Kira and the guys as well, for that matter. Too bad for the division, though. Nobunaga was an excellent 3rd seat, but a leader of men, he was not. Though, to be fair, that wasn't his problem anymore.

He realized then that there were far worse deaths, truth be told.

In that last moment, it was enough; and when the stillness claimed him, Kazeshini was right behind.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()


End file.
